


Even If It's a Lie. (l.s)

by blackstar_odyssey



Category: Harry Styles - Fandom, Larry Stylinson - Fandom, Louis Tomlinson - Fandom, Niam Horayne - Fandom, One Direction (Band), liam payne - Fandom, niall horan - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Larry Stylinson Is Real, M/M, Romance, Sad, Self-Harm, Smut, larry stylinson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 06:21:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 38,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29588532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackstar_odyssey/pseuds/blackstar_odyssey
Summary: Louis Tomlinson, a 26-year-old 'borderline' alcoholic and depressed basket case, has had trouble dealing with life after the separation of his old band, One Direction, two years ago.He has only had regular contact with 2 of his 5 ex-bandmates, specifically Niall Horan and Liam Payne.But what happens when he is drunkenly dared to send Harry Styles, the love of his life, or better yet, his ex-boyfriend who he hasn't spoken to in 2 years, a simple text?Will he learn to live without Harry or will he end up under his charming spell once again?((Trust me, it's not boring!!))****WARNINGS****+Drug Use (Marijuana, Cigarettes)+Alcohol Consumption+Coarse Language+Depression and E.D.s (symptoms will be present, including graphic scenes, etc.)+Sexual Situations (if that bothers you)READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!! IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH ANY OF THE LISTED SUBJECTS, DO NOT READ!!*********************Larry Stylinson AUSide Niam Horayne
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Niall Horan/Liam Payne
Kudos: 8





	1. Irish Spring (Prologue)

As childish as it may seem, I still watch raindrops race each other down the window. Only in the car, which has to be Niall's Civic, and only when it rains, obviously.

And that was exactly what I was doing right now; sitting in my favourite car, in my favourite jumper, with my favourite Irish man, in my favourite type of weather.

The only unfavourable part of this evening was Niall's horrid taste in music.

Don't get me wrong, I do so happen to listen to R.E.M., but if this boy plays Losing My Religion one more time I swear to God, I will lose my mind.

But at least this is better than him playing his playlist of traditional Irish jigging music. He absolutely loves to play that when he wants to wake me up. I swear to God this man-child will be the death of me.

"Niall, you've bloody played that shit a million times this week, would ya' fucking stop?"

Niall scoffed, obviously, he had been offended by my words, obviously.

"Alright mate, what will you play?" He asked, unplugging his phone from the AUX aggressively and handing it to me. "Lemme guess, 'Hey There Delilah?'"

Before I could tell him to stick his dick in a garbage disposal, he cleared his throat and started singing in a cracky, girly, prepubescent voice: "Ouhh, s'what you do to me-"

"Oh piss off, my little Leprechaun," I retorted quickly, bopping the bulb nose that sat before me, utterly to his demise. "I will be playing the best driving song I've heard recently. 'S a song called 'Sometimes' by Gerry Cinnamon."

Niall just rolled his eyes, "I hate that Scottish bloke."

"I know you do," I smiled with a plagued sweetness, allowing the wicked intro of the song to fill the car.

I let my body relax against the side of the car once more, staring at the sparkling droplets.

I took a deep breath, my nose filling up with a familiar scent, none other than the one I knew and loved to be; Irish Spring. Hands down, this car, which was incensed with Niall's go-to body wash, had to be one of my top favourite scents. It reminded me of the many nights hiding out in here to escape the paps or anyone we knew personally that we did not want to run into. However, it usually ended up being the latter as both of our boyfriends, or ex-boyfriend in my case, worked with us, so we never could ignore them. Unless we were in this car, obviously.

It was so easy to hide as well, as the windows were illegally tinted to a meagre 18% visible light transmission instead of the regular, and legal, 35%. At night, the windows were a solid shade of black, which made me feel as though Niall and I were secret agents in some action-packed crime movie. A boy could only dream.

I cast a side-glance at my best mate only to see him finger-drumming on the steering wheel to the song that he apparently hated. Dumb Irishman hating any Scot he knows about.

I turned my attention back to the window, looking at the raindrops sliding down the glass and the pine-green that swooshed past my eyes in a captivating blur. The relaxing sight outside my window led my mind to wander once more, however, this time I ended up thinking about my day.

Niall and I had met up today for the first time in a few months to finally work on a new project that we had been talking about doing since we last hung out. I really missed writing and jamming with him. He always filled the room with a loud laugh and an indescribable brightness. All in all, he loves what he does and it shows.

But unsurprisingly, we had only gotten to writing two songs in the span of three days, even though we planned on getting all five of the songs for our EP written by now. I blame it on Niall having to take a piss break every ten minutes and him always snacking on the food he brought.

Though, in the wise words of my mother, 'Time flies over us like a soaring bird but leaves its shadow behind.' I have those words ingrained into my mind like a tattoo. I vowed to her to never waste my time and live for the two of us now. God do I miss her.

I shook the thought of her from my head knowing that it would only make me upset, ruining the nicest day I've had in months.

I ran my small fingers through my feathery hair, letting out a deep sigh that I did not realize I was holding in.

"Hey mate what's wrong?" Niall asked. Worry lines were carved deeply into his forehead. He turned down the song which was almost finished anyway.

I hummed in response. Niall truly is my best friend.

"You are always just so- I love you, mate."

Niall smiled a toothy grin in response, "Love ya too, Tommo. But what's on your mind?"

"Always so persistent, I tell ya!" I chuckled, playfully rolling my eyes at him. "Missing my mum quite a bit right now, to tell you the truth," I paused, sending him a saddened smile, "I just wish I could tell her how great today was."

Niall patted my knee gently for reassurance, not saying another word.

We sat there in comfortable silence for a little while longer and I made a point to never take Niall's presence for granted.

He had this effect on me that was hard to describe. He was like the sunshine that melted the dreary snow from the blossoming flowers of Spring. No matter what mood I was in, Niall was able to calm me down and plant a genuine smile on my face. He kept me safe, happy, and most importantly, he helped me to grow.

And for that, he was my best mate. The greatest friend I could ever ask for, but don't tell Liam.

My mellowing mind was then interrupted by the quiet riff from one of my all-time favourite songs, Mr. Brightside.

"Oh, fuck yeah!" I cheered, reaching for the volume control.

Both of our sparkling blue eyes met each other in an instant. Our mouths were both curved into excited smiles, anticipating the up-coming lyrics we have grown to adore.

"Coming out of my cage and I've been doing just fine! Gotta gotta be down because I want it all!" I sang out of key, smiling too widely to care.

"It started out with a kiss, how did it end up like this? It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss!" Niall continued loudly, matching my jarring tone.

Niall adjusted the bass, adding more than his car could handle, making the speakers in the door vibrate, which, by-product, tickled my body that leaned against it. It was however music to my ears, literally.

My lips curved into an even wider smile as we sang the chorus. And finally, after a long and strenuous few months, I felt free. Maybe even infinite.

I was ecstatic to invite him back to my hotel room to have some fun like we used to. Tonight was going to be great...

Boy, was I ever wrong.


	2. Rain n' Mary Jane

I heard the driver's door get slammed shut, waking me from my hour-long nap.

"We at the hotel?" I asked, voice groggy from sleep.

But before Niall could answer, the overwhelming scent of what I could only assume to be Nando's filled my nose. I wasn't surprised, to say the least.

"Sorry to wake you, sleeping beauty! 'M just gonna get some chicken, want anything?"

Almost as if on queue, my stomach growled. I hadn't eaten anything all day. No breakfast, no lunch, no snacks. The only thing I've had was a bottle of water.

"Y-No, I had a big brunch with, uh- at the hotel this morning. I'll just stay here and wait." Niall nodded hesitantly, unsure if he should continue this conversation or not. So, I shooed him off towards the restaurant. Once again, he hesitated a minute before leaving.

Why did I have to be such a terrible fucking liar?

He knows I lied, doesn't he? He's going to make me eat, won't he? He'll come back with two bags instead of just one and force-feed me.

What if he sends me back to the hospital again? He thinks I'm bad again doesn't he?

Fuck this, I need a cigarette.

Even though I've been trying to quit, or at least cut-down, at the request of Lottie, I couldn't stop myself. I knew Liam kept his emergency cigs in the glove compartment, so I opened it up.

Marlboro, Gold.

Score!

I picked up the pack, with only four cigarettes left. Perfect.

I pulled out two and put the white box back into its rightful spot.

I placed the first one into my mouth quickly, lighting it up in record time.

I took a drag as I rolled down the window. I released the smoke in a slow blow, basking in the headrush.

It took up until half-way through the second one for me to finally relax again.

I closed my eyes and let the buzz take over my body. I felt completely relaxed as I took slower drags of my cigarette.

Fuck, I missed this.

But just as I started to loosen up, I felt some sort of bag drop into my lap, followed by a ticked off Niall.

"Louis! Are you serious? I thought I told you not to smoke in my car," He bitched, sitting his butt down in the seat next to me with a thud.

"What are you? My fucking mum-" I stopped.

Niall's face dropped, his mouth slightly agape. Pity was present in his eyes. He slid his hands down either of his thighs, taking a deep breath.

I hadn't closed my mouth since those careless words left my lips. Why do I never think before I speak?

The tension in the car only doubled as I tossed my half-finished cigarette out of the window.

Then, I started to close the window, which to my demise took about 10 long seconds, each one more excruciatingly painful than the last.

Awkward didn't even begin to describe how bizarre the air between Niall and me had gotten.

I was so tense that I couldn't even shift my weight in my seat. I could not move one bit.

Niall however, could. Our eye contact barely flickered as he reached out for his drink. He picked it up swiftly.

Too swiftly.

It's wet exterior slipped up and out of his hand. It poured out everywhere, but most of it landed right on my crotch.

Surprisingly, I wasn't angry. His act of complete buffoonery lessened the strain in the car, so much so that I burst into a fit of cackles.

At first, he was confused, his infamous nervous chuckle escaping his lips, but when he saw that I wasn't going to stop anytime soon, he joined in.

"That was so intense, sorry!" I howled, opening the passenger's door to exit the Civic.

"Mate, where r' ya' going?" Niall asked, clutching his chest in an attempt to steady his previously breathless laughs.

"I need some air, come on!" I said, a mischievous smile painted on my lips, thankfully, Niall hadn't seen it, yet.

Niall walked out of the car, without even a slight hesitation.

"Loui-,"

"You little shit!" I yelled, a playful tone overtaking my voice. I charged at his knees and threw him over my shoulder, his bum facing the sky, my bum facing his face.

"Tommo!" He pleaded, still laughing like an absolute hooligan.

"Oi! Oi!" 

"Put me down! Put me down!" he continued, squealing and flailing his arms and legs to try and escape my firm hold.

"You got me soaked, now it's your turn."

He continued his protests and uncomfortable giggles, so I decided to make a run for it.

His head kept banging into my ass as I sprinted, but he probably enjoyed that didn't he?

"Surprisingly heavy for a twink there, Nialler," I mocked, taking a break from running to pat his flat ass.

"I-.. am-... Not," He retorted, although his words were muffled by his head crashing against my ass once again.

I saw the waterline just as I thought I had gotten us lost.

"Almost here twinkie!"

"Hey! Rude-But-.. where-..are you-... bringing-.."

But before he could finish that question I screamed "Fire in the hole!" and flopped him into the lake. His back made contact with the surface in a loud crash, making it even harder to contain my giggles, let alone catch my breath. I just carried that fool in a sprint for about 5 bloody minutes, where's my fucking medal?

"Should cut down on the Nando's there Nialler, getting too heavy fer me' ol' shoulder," I joked as his head popped back out of the water with a hoarse scream.

"It's bloody fucking cold in here!" Niall bellowed, but then looked me square in the face with narrow eyes, finally processing what I had just said. "First of all, damn you, mate. I haven't got a towel. Second of all, I will eat as much Nando's as I want. Third, if I have to eat less Nando's than you have to eat mor-,"

"Touché," I replied sheepishly.

I finally took my gaze off Niall and looked over at the sight before my eyes.

There was so much green, I loved it.

Pine trees were scattered all along the waterline, their trunks peeping out from the thick forest-green grass that sprouted below my feet. And wildflowers of red, blue, yellow, and purple scattered the grounds on which I stood.

The sun was close to done setting. I intently admired the colours before they would ultimately disappear. The sunset was my favourite time of day. And no, it wasn't only because they were easy-on-the-eyes, but it was mainly because of what they meant to me. 'What is happy and lively can not last forever.' The colours that mingle in the sky can not last forever. Nor can happiness or anything you deem as good. It always has to come to an end, always. It doesn't matter how beautiful the day was, it will always burn out in a dazzling haze like it's supposed to. Always quicker than you planned; always harder than the last.

You have to appreciate every moment, whether it be with a person or a place or a good day. That is something I had to learn the hard way, something that I still have trouble remembering.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath of the fresh air, everything was golden as I opened my eyes.

I looked back at Niall who looked rather lonely in the darkening lake, so I started to strip myself of my clothing. I did however make sure to keep my Superman boxers on.

"Louis, you are an adult," Niall scoffed, staring at my underwear.

"Oi, eyes up here sir. Or take a picture, it'd last longer," I retorted dramatically.

"Shit! Picture! Phone! My phone was in my back pocket! It must be broken now-," Niall, the millionaire, panicked, slapping at his skin to feel for his phone.

"Ay, I stole it from ya when I patted that bum of yours. I guess you enjoyed that too much to notice." I reassured jokingly, pulling both of our phones out of the back-pockets of the skinnies that were pooling at my ankles.

"Thank God, I just about had a heart attack. Now hop in here. Ya' look like an overgrown ankle-biter, you gobshite"

"Aw, but that's why you like me so much, Nialler, innit? Because we're so alike?"

"I-"

"Make room for Tommo!" I yelled, cannonballing just centimetres away from the offended Irishman.

*************************  
Niall and I swam, laughed, had water fights, and explored the lake until the dark had completely swallowed the sky, leaving behind freckles of stardust. They glistened across the softly rippling lake, looking like pure magic.

"C'mon Loueh, I'm cold, wet, and have yet to eat!" Niall said through shivers.

"Yeah yeah, be there in a sec. Go get the car started, will ya'?" I answered, not taking my eyes off of the sight before me.

I watched as a small pack of birds flew out from their nest atop a great pine.

I watched as frogs started to jump across the log that I set my clothes upon.

I watched as life was moving around me in the dark.

All happiness was not gone; it had only just begun for the creatures before me.

And I came to the realization that I was wrong. Darkness doesn't always mean the good has ended. In some ways, darkness holds the keys that make what is light that much brighter.

Some of the most beautiful things happen in the dark, but you just can't tell because you can barely see a damn thing. Or maybe you just have to try and look a little harder.

I continued to admire the delicate world around me until I felt a strong yet soft force crash itself against my lower back.

What the fuck?

I turned around quickly only to see Niall waving softly at me.

"Well, what was that for, dickhead?" I hissed, trudging towards him with a heavy-hearted scowl and what he threw at me (my jumper).

"I mean, I left you here for 20 minutes, mate. Thought you proper drowned or got eaten by a bear."

"So you threw my clothes at me?" I asked rhetorically whilst putting my clothes back on. I already felt much warmer.

"Lucky bastard with warm clothes. Stupid cold water," Niall mumbled quietly, crossing his hands over his chest like a pouty child.

I barked out a quick laugh at his grumpiness, "How about I let you borrow some of my clothes from my room?"

"Yeah, you better," Niall sassed, letting one of his previously crossed hands to dishevel my already messy hair.

"Hm, not with that attitude I won't," I quipped, slapping a hand to rest on his upper back, leading us towards the car.

Niall rolled his eyes jokingly, "I shoulda known not to mess with the infamous 'Sass Masta' from Doncasta'."

"Oi, shut up, lad."

And he did. We walked the rest of the way to the car in easy silence. The only sounds that echoed through the air were the loud chirps of the crickets, the soft blow of the leaves through the windy air, and the crunch of twigs underneath our feet.

Niall unlocked the car with the press of a button and we both sat inside, Niall, damp and envious, and me, warm and perfectly content.

Finally, Niall broke the silence by tapping on the steering wheel and then voicing a question he was going to answer regardless of what I responded with.

"You know what song has been playing through my head since our little trek?" He asked as he pulled out his iPhone, typing something into Spotify. God, I hate iPhones.

Before he could play a song, I begged him with my undeniable puppy dog eyes, "Please tell me we're not listening to Losing My Religion."

"Ha. Ha. Very funny. You're close though."

"Just bloody play it th-,"

My whining was interrupted by the familiar piano intro to the song, Nightswimming.

"Yay! More R.E.M! I'm very excited," I mocked sarcastically.

Niall just ignored my sass, as usual, and smiled deeply.

"Nightswimming," He belted, "Deserves a quiet night!"

"Oh, brother," I huffed, scrunching my nose up in irritation. However, I knew that he wouldn't stop singing even if I kept fussing, so I joined in.

"The photograph on the dashboard," I sang sweetly, turning to face him, waiting for him to continue the lyric.

"Taken years ago!" He sang happily, backing the car out of the parking lot.

Although it didn't sound like he was singing. He had his cold chicken sandwich in his mouth and he was chewing halfway through the lyric. He looked like a pig, I don't know how Liam deals with such a messy and sloppy eater.

We continued to sing the song throughout the entire way back to the hotel.

Tonight was turning out for the better. Things finally felt ok, or at least as ok as they could be.

And I owed it all to my best mate, Nialler.

*************************  
Ugly halogen lamps were littered all along the walk that led up to my hotel. Their glow painted the countless puddles on the ground a dark shade of yellow.

For some reason, I thought that the yellow puddles were really funny. Maybe because Niall and I had smoked some of Liam's weed after we parked the car. Yeah, that was probably why. 

"Red Bull pee!" I exclaimed, pointing hysterically at the puddle in front of me, "Red Bull pee!"

Niall laughed at my observation as if it was the funniest thing he had ever heard. Which, byproduct, made me laugh harder as well. Our obnoxious laughs echoed through the thankfully empty street as we continued walking, well more like stumbling, towards the entryway.

After a few falls, mostly on my end, we made it to the front desk.

This hotel, specifically The Larimar, is located in a small town south of London.

The only people who live here are old geezers who like fishing or young families and even groups of roommates who work in the heart of London and need a cheaper place to live.

So, whenever Niall and I hang out, it is always and will always be here. We've only gotten recognized twice out of the hundreds of times we've visited, so it's safe.

"Do you need a room?" The young receptionist asked.

Her perky voice, which was obviously rehearsed, did not fit her exterior. Although she wore the usual deep blue and white uniform, her aura did not radiate the same preppiness.

She had on matte black lipstick, dramatic black eyeliner, and had small eyebrows with their tails shaved off. There were silver and black piercings covering her face, nose, lips, and ears. Her black-red box braided hair was pulled into a bun at the top of her head.

She was a punk stuck in conservative clothes.

"No, darling. I just need a key!" I exclaimed, a giddy smile on my face.

At first, she looked me in the eyes with a confused expression. Her amber orbs were rather soft and endearing, unlike her harsh makeup.

"Sir are you... Uhm... high?" She asked, giggling slightly at my kookiness.

"No!" Niall snapped with a mock-disgusted voice, I guess my sassiness has rubbed off on him. I smiled at that thought before having another outburst.

"Oh! Niall! We didn't give her the room number! Stupid, stupid, stupid!" I said, smacking my head lightly after each 'stupid'. "It's 28 B! Louis Tomlinson."

"Alright, here is your key. Please do not dial 9 on the phones. Reception is 0, housekeeping is 6, and emergency is, of course, 112. Have a good evening, lads!" She smiled endearingly at us before handing me the key.

*************************  
Niall, virtual Liam, and I sat around in a circle on the beige carpet of my hotel room, playing spin the bottle like old times. But there was no bottle. We were very high.

Niall flicked his wrist in a spinning motion and then pointed at himself.

"Ah, my turn!" He exclaimed, an artificial fear laced in his voice.

Liam chuckled fondly at his boyfriend before turning his gaze to me; "What is he in for, Louis?"

I smirked evilly, "How about you take off the nice warm clothes of mine, that YOU are wearing, for three rounds. But instead of being naked, you have to put the wet ones back on."

"Good one, Tommo!" Liam exclaimed, giving an amused look in the direction of a very pouty Niall.

"But I'm so cozy, Louis," Niall cried, pulling the hood further over his head.

"A dares a dare," I retorted evilly.

"Or are you too chicken?" Liam asked, mockingly making chicken movements and sounds.

"Oh shut up, I'll do it. But just know you've got something coming, Louis," He spat my name coldly before storming to the bathroom where his clothes lay drying.

"Oh shit... You gonna force me to slap your ass again?" I asked, hoping that he heard me. But I didn't suspect he did as I did not hear any whiney protests from the bathroom. The only pout I heard was from Liam.

"Hey! I'm right here man!" He joked, but a slight frown was etched onto his face.

"You know I would never try to take him, man. He's too smelly."

Liam's face lit up at my words and he let out a small giggle.

"He is rather stinky!"

"I heard that!" A shivering Niall said as he entered the room, a scowl present on his usually jolly face.

"Can we get this over with! I'm cold," He cried, taking a seat beside me.

"Spin the bottle then, mate," I chuckled, taking another mighty swig of the whiskey in front of me.

We continued the childish game for a couple more hours. Every minute the three of us got a little drunker. However, Niall and I also got higher. What a perfectly terrible mix.

By the end of the night, among other dares and truths, Liam had to shave his beard, at the request of Niall and ended up getting asked, by me, about his fetishes. Both Niall and he were red-faced and flustered by the end of that conversation, and I was left with more knowledge than I should and a laugh that I couldn't control.

I, however, ended up bleaching my leg hair and stupidly attempting to dye it with the Merlot from the hotel's mini-fridge. Obviously, it did not end up working, but we were too stoned to care.

Niall had gotten back into his dry clothes but had Sharpie doodles of my doing upon his face. He was also dared, by Liam, to go out on a date with him Sunday night.

Yes, I admit it was one of the cutest things I have ever witnessed, but it also reminded me how bloody single I was, which is never a good thing.

The night carried on with simple dares and truths, but I had yet to receive a terrible dare. Maybe Niall had forgotten he had threatened me with one, which seemed rather likely with the state he was in; drunk out of his mind and high as a kite.

However, I was a bit drunker than him. I could barely even keep my eyes open.

"Hey, maybe we should make this the last round," I slurred.

"Ok then," Niall said, spinning his hand stupidly for the millionth time tonight, even though we could have been using one of the many bottles we were drinking from.

"Oh my! It somehow landed on you, laddy!" Niall hiccuped, poking the middle of my chest aggressively.

"Hm, I wonder what it shall be," He pondered dramatically, tapping his chin. However, his facial expression wasn't as playful. I saw a mischievous smirk painted across his pink lips.

"Dare, right?" Liam asked, taking the last sip from his bottle. He was still the soberest out of all of us, only downing three things of a lager.

"Yeah, but I don't think you'll get any input," I started, my voice wavering with each syllable, "Niall's got his mind made up, don't ya' pal?"

I took the last drag from Niall and I's joint and tapped off the last of the ashes.

"Indeed I do, bud," He responded, wrapping his arm around my unsuspecting shoulder.

"Well go on, we don't have all night," I said.

He only hummed in response, chugging the last bits of our whiskey.

And finally, the nerves kicked in. Was this it? Was this the dare he was talking about?

I was never one to chicken out or flip my shit on dares, but this one had me pissing my pants.

"Aw, little Loueh is nervous," Niall cooed sarcastically, squishing my cheek as an annoying aunt would.

"'M not little," I huffed.

"Niall get on with it, please! The wait is killing me!" Liam exclaimed, rubbing his temples playfully.

"Alright, Lewis. Truth or dare?"

"You already know it's dare, Nialler," I retorted coldly, but inside I was absolutely petrified. I knew this was a good dare by the amused glint in his bloodshot eyes, and that's what had me the most scared.

I just knew he had been waiting to use this one for a while. He had his chance and he gladly took it. And he was proud of it.

His smug little smirk further proved my point.

His pupils were dilated to the max as he leaned in closer to my face.

"You. Have. To. Text..." He started, drawing out every word he spoke, "The famous, Mr. Styles."

Oh fuck.

Did I hear him right?

"Sorry, what?" I asked, my jaw painfully clenching as I closed my mouth.

"Niall, my God. I told you not," Liam sighed, shaking his head lightly.

"You-? But-? Why-? Are you serious?"

My mind was racing a million miles a minute. I couldn't hold a steady thought even if I tried.

My gaze flicked from Liam to Niall in disbelief. How long had they been talking about this?

Then, a painful pang emerged in my chest, almost as though my heart was pumping a toxic substance through my veins.

My hands were trembling and my whole body was shaking. It felt like my entire body was on overdrive.

My brain was pulling out all the sirens, screaming at me 'HARRY HARRY HARRY', and before I knew it, I was running to the toilet.

I found myself familiarly hurling my guts out. I had my small hands clutching the sides of the lid tightly. My knuckles were almost a ghastly shade of white.

Oddly, I loved the feeling of throwing up. As much as I try to convince myself I don't, it feels good. Almost freeing. Like I'm letting out the bad from my body.

After a couple more rounds of rejecting the alcohol and anxiety from my system, I had nothing left in my drunken belly to throw-up. I brought myself up to the sink and splashed my face with the cold water that came from the powder blue faucet.

I loved how everything in this hotel had something to do with the colour blue. Which didn't surprise me in the slightest, as the name of the hotel was The Larimar, which is a brilliant mineral with bright turquoise crystals.

Other than the few white, brown, and grey pieces of furniture, it was all the colour blue. Periwinkle, turquoise, ultramarine, navy, indigo, you name it.

I almost opened the door to re-enter the tense living room but decided I might as well try and hear what they were talking about without me there.

I pressed my ear against the cold wood of the bathroom but could only make out some of what Liam was saying. He spoke sternly, yet softly to Niall, saying things such as "Bad idea, babe," and "Maybe we should... different dare."

A different dare?

I knew Niall would never let this one down though.

For starters, he loved Harry and I's relationship too much to see us apart. I know he only wants us to be civil again. And second of all, I've made him do some of the craziest dares, like picking Simon's nose when he was sleeping or making-out with Liam, which actually turned out for the better, but at the time it was rather embarrassing for him.

Was this for payback? The desire for reconciliation?

I didn't know his reasoning, but what I did know was that this text message was inevitable.

"I deleted his number after the band split, anyone got it?" I asked as I left the loo, so nonchalantly that I even scared myself.

"Holy shit, Lou-Louis you don't have to," Liam interjected, using his 'concerned-parent' voice.

I was glad that he had corrected himself, I didn't let anyone else call me Lou after we broke up, it just hurt too bad.

I sat down beside Niall once more, taking in a deep breath. Liam sat in his bedroom with a drunken glaze over his eyes and a confused expression.

"Niall, take it back," Liam asked softly, pleading Niall with his amazing puppy dog eyes.

Niall just turned to me. He had on an apologetic smile, he was sorry but not sorry enough to back down.

Captain Niall was going down with his ship, regardless of the casualties.

"A dare's a dare, right?" He reminded me, handing me his phone with Harry's contact on the screen.

Harold the Whale, with a photo of young Niall and Harry.

My eyes lingered to the right of the photo.

There stood Harry, his face scrunched up against a douchey-yet-gangster-looking, Niall.

All of his pearly white teeth were showing, he looked so happy. I looked at his deep dimples and reminisced about how I used to poke them to wake him up.

I stared at that adorable face that I fell in love with. How could I ever hate him?

My mind snapped back to reality as Niall shook my shoulder.

"You look like you've seen a bloody ghost," Niall chuckled nervously.

I closed my eyes tightly, forcing the image of that beautiful boy out of my head.

'This was real. This was happening,' I kept reminding myself that as I pulled out my phone from my pyjama pocket.

I dialled in the numbers slowly, my hands growing cold and sweaty.

Nobody dared to speak a damn word. The only noises came from my typing, the pitter-patter of a heavy rainfall that started to pour again, and probably my heart-beat.

I stared blankly at the screen. What was I supposed to say?

I turned to Niall who was having a wordless conversation with Liam. They always spoke with their eyes like that. It was cute, but it did get on my nerves as I knew for a fact that this time they were 'talking' about me.

"Well, Uhm, what now?" I asked, nervously fidgeting with the frayed hem of my jumper.

Their eye-contact broke and Niall cleared his throat.

"Ask him for coffee?" Niall suggested blankly.

I haven't spoken to him in years, and he wants me to casually ask him out for coffee? Is he on drugs or summat?

But then remembered that we are both high, so yes, he was in fact on drugs. I chuckled to myself dryly at that dumb joke.

"Not going to do that," I said, but then Niall took me by surprise and snatched my phone.

"Niall! Give that back!" I yelled, tackling him to lie on his back.

He quickly turned his body around, holding my phone under his stomach so I couldn't reach it without letting him go.

"Oh fuck off," I sighed, letting him go.

He rolled over and sat on his bum, laughing madly as he typed.

What the fuck was he writing?

He finally stopped his madly typing fingers and showed the screen to Liam. He bit back a laugh and let out an almost inaudible "Oh no."

Niall took the final sip of our last beer and tossed my phone onto the bed.

"What the fuck, Nialler?" I scoffed, sitting up and hopping onto my bed. I propped myself up against my pillows. I tried to make myself as comfortable as possible. Hoping that the soft white pillows would cushion the blow.

I picked up the phone and read it as Niall and Liam stared at me. Both anticipating the worst reactions imaginable.

But as the final word left my head, I was in shock. I sat there frozen in place, unable to remove my glazed over eyes from the screen.

The word 'delivered' rang through my brain.

I couldn't believe it.

I re-read the text over and over again hoping that the words might change. I prayed to God that I typed in the wrong number because otherwise, my life would be turned upside down again, and I didn't know if I could handle that.

The text read:  
\---------------------------------------  
I'm at The Larimar, staying here for a little while to work on an EP with Niall. I just wanted to say that it made me think of you :)

If you are nearby, we should hang out maybe. Miss you x.

Always in my heart, Harry.

Yours sincerely, Louis.  
\-----------------------------------------

Well, shit.

I knew there was no way of escaping this mess, so I stayed absolutely still, staring at the ceiling.

I didn't say goodbye to Liam when Niall hung up.

I didn't scootch over when Niall slid into the bed with me.

I didn't even get up to get ready for bed.

I just sat there, silently, for what felt like hours. I let my crossfaded mind travel to anywhere it pleased, letting it tangle me into painfully confusing knots.

I was on edge, to say the least. Every buzz that came from my phone made me jerk my head to the side quickly, checking to see the name that appeared. But it was never his.

Why wasn't I surprised? He hated me, why would he text back? And why was I so invested in this? I hate him. I swear to God I hate him.

I let out a deep sigh, brushing my hands through my dishevelled hair.

"Nialler," I whisper screamed sweetly, testing to see if he was still awake.

"Niall?"

The only answer he gave me was a hearty snore, so I decided to try and sleep as well.

I turned away from the obnoxiously loud lad and attempted to calm the buzzing thoughts that filled my head.

What the fuck did I just do?

I was way too piss-drunk and crossfaded to deal with this grim turn of events seriously, but now I'm all alone. Just like that, and I'm sober.

What was once arguably the best day I've had in 3 years, has become another nightmare.

How was I going to fix this?

I had no idea.

But a calmness swirled in my chest as I looked out the window. My eyes caught sight of the prepossessing grapefruit moon and one star shining. I assumed the rest were covered in the heavy rain-clouds once again. But in my eyes, it looked perfect regardless.

And suddenly, one thought shot through my brain, hushing everything else.

What if Harry was looking at it too.

And with that, I passed out, a drunken smile carved deeply on my face.

I was dreaming of none other than the famous Mr. Styles.


	3. Yorkshire Tea and a Side of Gatorade

I shuddered in my sleep, feeling a cool breeze fall across my exposed chest.

I squinted my eyes slightly, already getting blinded by a harsh light.

I shifted my body opposite the Sun and cuddled into the blankets once again. Just as I had gotten cozy, a loud crash sounded from the other room.

A ringing pain lingered through my throbbing head, banging into each corner and crevice in my mind.

I decided that this was the universe's crude way of telling me I should get up, so I did. I quickly lifted myself to a sitting position, but immediately regretted it afterwards.

A blur of nausea and dizziness strained my head, causing me to let out a dramatic groan.

"You're up already?" Niall asked, emerging from the kitchen with a cup of sweet-smelling Yorkshire tea, my favourite.

He was already dressed in his clothing from last night and he had a ketchup stain on the side of his cheek, so I assume he had already eaten.

"Well, I'll tell you what, Sherlock Holmes, you are unbelievable," I sassed, rudely grabbing the cup from his hands and letting the burning liquid pour down my dry throat.

"Hey, that's my joke!" Niall pouted, pushing my shoulder playfully.

"Niall, I hate to break it to ya, but you weren't the first person to come up with Sherlock Holmes jokes. Are you dense?" I asked sarcastically, flicking his forehead lightly.

"Forgot how much of a grumpus you are in the mornings," Niall scoffed, sitting up from the bed to open the curtains further.

"Fuck, Niall! I'm so hungover," I groaned, shielding my eyes from the light, which was now completely washing this room a golden yellow. "Close the bloody curtains."

"Oh, come one. A little sun never hurt anyone."

"Except it's hurting me, right now actually." I snapped.

My loud outburst made my head spin once again. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and rested my hands on my temples before asking, "Jesus how piss-drunk were we last night?"

"You tell me," Niall chuckled, pointing to a plastic bag that was leaning against the door. It was clear, so I could easily see its continents. I placed my rectangular glasses onto my face and gaped at the sight before me.

About 6 beer cans were dumped at the bottom of the bag, followed by an empty glass-bottle of Irish whiskey, and a darkly stained glass-bottle of Merlot. There were also some ashes smeared on the inside of the bag, so I assumed we got high as well.

I mentally face-palmed myself.

"Explains why I don't remember a damn thing," I chuckled, hopping off of my bed, being careful not to move too quickly, and started for the kitchen to rinse out my teacup.

Niall was hot on my trail, practically stepping on my heels.

"So you, uh... don't remember text- Uh oh," Niall said, although it sounded more like he was thinking out loud.

"Well, Niall," I started, finally picking up on his worried expression. "Is there something I should be worried about?"

Niall practically ignored my question and sat on the dark-blue velvet couch.

He flipped through channels until he finally found one that intrigued him, Looney Tunes. He smiled at himself proudly before clearing his throat.

"Uh, no. I don't believe so. Maybe check your phone then, yeah?"

Why would I have to look through my phone?

God, I hated myself for getting that hammered last night. I prayed that I hadn't posted a picture of myself naked, but the notification I saw on my screen was much worse. Much, much, much, worse.

\---------------------------------------  
From: Harry Styles...

Unlock to see sensitive notification.  
\---------------------------------------

Why the fuck would Harry send me a message out of the blue-

And then it hit me.

The weed.

The booze.

The call.

The truths.

The dares.

That dare.

My heart-beat slammed against my chest like a sledgehammer to a wall, so hard it almost hurt.

My breathing quickened and had gotten unnaturally loud, causing Niall to avert his gaze from his cartoons and come running up to me.

"Ey man, y'alright?" He asked, patting my shoulder gently.

Am I alright? Are you kidding me?

Of course, I'm bloody not. He should know that better than anyone.

"What do you damn think, Niall?" I yelled, my nerves rapidly turning into anger.

"I think I should go!" Niall said, running to the door.

"Nialler!" I bellowed, fiery anger surged through my voice, shooting through him like a bullet in a gun.

Niall turned his body back to face mine, knowing he was a lamb to the slaughter. He practically looked like a dog with his guilty eyes and nervous expression, I almost felt bad. Key-word 'almost.' I was going to let this pikey have it.

"Yes, Louis?" He asked, an artificial innocence taking over his playful Irish accent.

"You crack-handed twat! Don't act all soft."

"I prefer ninny, Louis. You know that," The man said, chuckling loudly at his own sarcastic line.

"Oh piss off with the jokes, mate. You know what you did."

Realizing that I wasn't taking the piss, Niall's blue eyes softened. He put his hand on my shoulder and used a soft and calming voice. "You lot haven't spoken for three fuckn' years, mate. I got you on speaking terms again, didn't I? It was just a little dare when we got crossfaded, so what?"

"So what?" I mocked, rolling my eyes so heavily that I thought I was going to have a seizure.

"Ok no need to get sassy on me, Tommo. Chillax. He's just tryna have a conversation with ya'. Maybe he'll even ring ya'. Nothing to wince in your shandies about. He loves you man, you obviously do too."

"No, I don't," I mumbled, kicking my foot into the beige carpet below me.

But oddly enough, his endearing Irish words calmed me down. Hell, I barely even understood what he said, but I knew he meant well. He just wants his best pals to be civil; I think I can do that.

I guess we'll just have to see.

"So," He said, dragging me towards the couch to watch the rest of the cartoons with him, "Are you going to open it or not?"

I hesitated a second before completely shutting off my phone.

Even though every nerve in my body was screaming at me to open that simple text, I couldn't.

I knew that if I read it, my entire mood and maybe life would change.

I wasn't ready for that.

I don't know if I could handle a positive reaction, let alone a negative one. And I had a feeling the text would resemble the latter. I mean, he broke up with me, not the other way around.

But if I had to endure another rejection, I would. Because maybe that way I would gain at least a little bit of closure.

A closure that I have been so helplessly hoping and searching for.

"Niall, can we have a lads day? I just want to have some fun, blow off some steam, and hang out with you before I open it." I asked hesitantly, nervously praying he would agree to it.

"Of course, little Ms. Morning Breath. Don't have to ask me twice," He smiled, bopping my nose.

"Oi, fuck off Nialler. At least I wash my arse," I snorted, trying to mask the excitement that exploded in my eyes when he said yes.

Niall chuckled a hearty laugh before boldly saying: "Oh, Louis. Didn't I tell you? Liam washes it for me, with his tong-"

"Who?" I interrupted, my face flushing a deep shade of pink.

"I just said, Lia-."

"No, who asked?"

"Oh yeah, real funny. Ha. Ha," Niall retorted, rolling his eyes as he picked up his keys from my nightstand.

"Bring a pair of sunglasses, your wallet, and grab a bite to eat. Brush those fucking teeth. I'll bring the car to the front, ok? Be down in 15."

And with that, he was off, shutting the door behind himself.  
_______________________

After about a twenty-minute drive, Niall stopped the car. I opened my door and was faced with a petite corner shop with a neon sign that read "Eddie's."

Niall put on his sunglasses and I followed suit.

We walked into the store with our heads hanging low, as we spotted two teenage girls at the front desk. We safely made our way to the back of the store, picking up two fat Gatorade bottles.

One red, one blue.

Niall also picked up two Marlboro Red's, which I assumed were for me since I have been on edge all morning, and four cans of spray paint. There was black, red, dark green, and dark blue. Niall didn't tell me why he was picking out those items, but I sure as hell was intrigued.

I also grabbed a pack of assorted gummies for Niall as we rang our purchases up to the cash, knowing that Niall would be whining about being hungry within the next hour.

After I paid for our stuff, we returned to the car, heading back towards where we came from.

"So," Niall started, breaking the peaceful silence. "I saw this cool spot on the other side of the lake the other night. I've got towels and swim trunks that I stol- borrowed from the hotel's pool in the trunk. You good with going cliff jumping and maybe marking our territory with these?" Nial asked, shaking one of the cans for effect. He was so excited about this, almost as if he has never graffitied before.

But then I remembered it's Niall, the boy who has no tattoos nor piercings and who plays golf,

So of course he hasn't.

As we veered closer to the other side of the lake, I felt a wave of nausea get lodged in my stomach.

I didn't see a 'spot', I saw a cliff, the cliff.

The place I used to call, 'The Boyfriend Rock.'

"You know what Niall, maybe we should go to the pool in the hotel," I tried coxing him. I didn't think I'd be able to handle reading the old letters I once wrote on that damn piece of rock.

"Nope! Sorry, party pooper! We're almost there anyhow," Niall squealed, picking up speed as the road straightened out.

"This'll be fun, I promise."

"Speak for yourself, Niall," I mumbled under my breath, I don't believe I was loud enough for Niall to hear me.

"Sorry, what was that?" He asked sarcastically.

"Nothing," I said, ending the conversation.

I tilted my head against the window and watched the grass and trees sway from the gentle breeze, almost like they did on the 28th of September 2011. That perfect day is one that I will never forget.

The soft mist of rain sprinkled my face as I grabbed the hips of a lanky boy, the one I knew as Harry Styles.

His cheeks flushed in response and he wrapped his hands around my neck.

"What do you feel like doing today, handsome?" I asked, sending him a wink.

He scrunched his nose up, obviously embarrassed that those words made him even more flustered and red.

"Well, Lou, maybe we could go to the cliff on the other side of the lake?" He asked, stepping closer to me.

Our bodies were almost touching and I felt butterflies form in my chest.

We had only been 'trying things out' for a month by then.

Man, did it take us a long time to admit our feelings.

Ever since we first met, him splashing his piss on me at the urinals, I have wanted to be with him. And after almost a year of the denial stage, the almost-kisses, lingering glares, and longing moments, we were here. Lips centimetres apart, his hands twirling the hairs at the back of my neck, my hands holding his hips.

But he still wasn't 'mine.'

We both agreed to take this slow and wade in shallow waters for as long as we both felt comfortable. But I couldn't wait any longer. I wanted to hold his hand in front of all my friends and invite him over to my parents' as 'my boyfriend.'

So today, I was going to ask him...

Maybe.

I was still nervous.

"So what do you say," He whispered, caressing my earlobe sweetly.

"Of course, angel," I said, pecking those plump pink lips of his.

We headed to my car so that I could drive us there, as he still had yet to get his licence. But he said he would try in December.

As we drove over the bumps, I heard clanking in the trunk.

"What's that annoying ruckus, love?" Harry asked, placing his hand over the top of mine on the manual stick.

"Oh shit! Hell yeah," I cheered, a wide sunshine smile painted on my face. "Zayn and I sprayed some character in an old factory last night. I guess he left it in here. Wanna make doodles on the cliff?"

I wiggled my eyebrows playfully and he shot me back a look of pure fondness in response.

"Alright, but if we get caught I won't hesitate to throw you under the bus."

"I'll take the blame for you any day, Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes. Anything for you, Harreh," I hummed, moving my hand from the manual stick to rest on his thigh.

He tensed up for a second but then let out a happy exhale.

"Cheesy, cheesy, boy," He giggled.

It took a couple more minutes, but we had finally arrived at the cliff. I got out of the car and ran quickly to the passenger's side to open the door for him.

"Oh, my, what a gentleman," He gasped, throwing the back of his hand to his forehead dramatically.

We held hands the entire time, grabbing the spray paint, walking down the steep hill (or the literal side of the cliff as Harry nervously screamed) to the waterfront, and even when we stripped down to our boxers.

We couldn't help it, they just fit so perfectly.

We spent the rest of the day splashing each other in the water, play fighting, and of course, jumping off the side of the cliff a couple of times.

This was turning out to be one of the best days ever, all because of the pretty boy who stood before me.

"We almost forgot about the spray paint!" I exclaimed, walking over to the small pile that Harry and I dumped just hours ago.

"Ah, I know what I'm going to write," I said cheekily, picking up a dark green can of graffiti.

"It better be appropriate, Mister!" Harry scolded, walking himself behind me and wrapping his arms around my thin waist.

I solely barked a dry laugh in response, earning an unsurprised eye-roll from the curly lad.

I shook the can sharply before bringing it to practically touch the rocky surface of the cliff. And I began to write.

'LOUIS is MY DADDY'

I turned around and chuckled at a blushing Harry, before continuing my message.

'I am HIS BITCH- HArrY STYLES <3'

This time, Harry dug his face into my shoulder blade, giggling mindlessly at my stupidness.

I turned around and picked his face up in my hands. Our eyes were now level and I said, "Romantic, right?"

He only giggled more.

"Now you write something, darling," I said, picking up a dark blue can for him to use.

He thought for a minute before blushing profusely, "I have an idea," He said shyly, bringing his can close to where I had previously written 'DADDY.'

He hesitantly drew an X over it and turned back to me for a second before writing 'boyfriend?' over top.

My lips pouted softly, in awe of his cuteness. I cocked my head to the side and met his pleading green eyes with my glazed over blue ones.

"I know we've only been like, I guess dating for a month or whatever, a-and are taking it slow but... I just- I don't know. Well, I do know, I am completely infatuated with all that is you. Hell, I have been since the start of X-Factor," He started nervously, fidgeting with his fingers.

"Louis would you be my boyfr-"

But before he could ask the question, I attacked his lips in a passionate yet soft kiss, pressing the small of his back into my body so that we could get impossibly closer.

I pulled off after a couple of seconds, still leaving my lips centimetres from his.

"Does that answer your question, princess?" I whispered, bringing one of my hands to caress his blushing cheek.

"Hm, no. You'll have to do that again to truly convince me," Harry teased, leaning his lips back into mine.

"Gladly," I hummed against his mouth, now lifting him up and wrapping his legs around my waist.

His lips pressed against mine softly, gently massaging my top lip. We kissed innocently like we always have done for the past month. Both too afraid to use tongue because we didn't want to startle or go too fast.

But now he was my boyfriend.

My. Boyfriend.

I smiled into the kiss and brought my fingers into his hair, tangling them into his wet mess of curls. I tugged them lightly and he gasped into my mouth, allowing me to slide my tongue in.

I felt him melt into my hands like putty as I continued to encase his lips into mine.

I walked up into the lake, not breaking the kiss until I dunked us into the water.

I heard him scream against my open mouth, but then he pulled himself further from my face, opening his eyes and studying mine.

He gently smiled as he realized I was already watching him intently and pecked my thin and swollen lips.

We brought ourselves back above the surface, holding each other's hands once more.

"Louis it's so cold!" He said, shivering slightly.

"Aw my little boyfriend is cold," I cooed mockingly

"Hey! 'M taller than you! And if you keep up with the sass I might just revoke the boyfriend status."

I gasp dramatically, "You would never!"

"You'll have to make it up to me then," He hummed, taking a step closer to me.

"Anything for you, Haz"

"Always so cliché," Harry rolled his eyes, but I knew he loved it when I said things like that. His blush gave him away.

"But that's what makes you like me so much," I joked, letting my thumb slide over his bottom lip.

"Yeah... maybe," Harry replied coyly, tracing my exposed collarbones.

"How about I take you to the Beachwood Café, it's just a few blocks from The Larimar. Is that a good enough apology?"

He tapped his chin with one of his slender fingers, exaggeratedly showing me that he was unsure.

"I heard they serve some killer donuts!"

"Mhm! Deal!" Harry responded quickly, his eyes lighting up brighter than the sun that was beating down on us. He kissed me once more, sealing the deal in the best way I could imagine. 

"Louis!" Niall called from outside the car. "Quit your day-dreaming and get your ass outta the car."

I sighed softly at the memory and headed towards the giddy Niall, once again with dark blue and green spray paint in my hands.


	4. Chlorinated Carpets

I looked down at the once bare cliff to see millions of little doodles, quotes, and initials covering it. A swamp of rainbow colours was concocted on the once tan coloured rock. 

Was our graffiti still there?

It wasn't that I cared, however. I was only curious, anyone would be, right? I mean it has been a couple of years since we painted. I have every right to be curious.

Whatever. 

Niall was ahead of me by a few metres, chuckling his ass off at every vulgar doodle he saw.

"Louis!... Louis!" He called through wheezes, "Come check this one out!"

I hesitantly approached my cackling buddy, hoping to God it wasn't what I thought it was.

It's just a pair of dicks, please, for the love of God let it be a pair of dicks.

And there it was. Faded, but still there, staring at me intently. Waiting for me to crack.

"The Larry Stylinson shippers are something else, mate."

He- Niall didn't know it was written by me?

In a way, I was relieved. I would've had to have heard the pity speech or have gotten asked to eat a tub of ice-cream and cry. Niall always tried to comfort me that way, and I hated it. I hate basking in self-pity, I don't even deserve it. What I deserve is to forget and move on. And that's what I do. I get drunk, laugh until I numb the pain, wake up hungover, and forget about it.

But anyway, I was over Harry. No doubt about it. Having this old artifact of our relationship in front of my face just proved that. I felt nothing. No happiness. No anger. Just flat out indifference.

"We should cover that ugly shit up," I snapped coldly, pointing towards the faded work of mine. I started to shake Niall's red paint and just as I was about to stroke a line, Niall smacked it out of my hand.

"The fuck was that fo-"

"No! I like it. Why does it even bother you so much? It's not you still love him, right? Or like he actually wrote it."

Yeah, Niall, I don't love him. And I know it wasn't him who wrote it. T'was me.

"Whatever, yeah? Can you just take me the fuck home?" I snarled, turning back towards the car.

"Woah, Woah, Woah there, tiger. C'mere," Niall demanded inquisitively.

I groaned deeply before doing a 180, meeting his blue eyes with my own. The only difference was that his blue eyes were confused and soft, mine were angry and- wait no. I'm not angry. Just tired and want to go home. No reason to be mad.

"What crawled up your ass and died?" He chuckled, taking a step towards me, but I was still a couple of metres away from him.

"Niall drop it," I warned, gritting my teeth painfully hard.

"And didn't you and Harry go to this hotel to get away from paps all the time?"

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut Up.

"And this graffiti looks old, three-four years old my guess," Niall stepped closer to me, placing his finger on my chest assertively.

"You are getting angrier the more I speak. Look at those clenched fists, those must proper hurt. And your eyes look glazed over, Lois. AAAAnd if I listen hard enough, I could probably hear your heartbeat."

I wiped at my eyes fiercely, she wasn't going to crack me this easily. I know he wanted me to admit that I still care about Harry, but I won't.

"No, Niall! Take me the fuck back right now!"

A small frown appeared on Niall's face. He picked up the red can of spray paint and dejectedly drew a dick.

"I know it was you, Tommo. Sorry," He sighed deeply, hitting my shoulder as he walked past me to reach the car.

I didn't have the heart to argue or pick a fight with him, so I didn't say another word.

We drove back in moderately tense silence, neither of us wanting to speak and cause a fight or break the peace.

I sat in the back seat with my legs hanging out of the window. I had taken my shoes off which made me feel slightly tickled by the wind.

The drive went on in silence until the hotel was visible in the distance. "Niall, just drop me off and go back to you and Payno's. I'll be alright."

"Will you be alright on your own? It's no bother, Lou-"

"Niall I'll be fine. just go home. I know Li probably misses you crazy since you've only been hanging with me." I interrupted with a forced smile.

"If you say so," He said, parking the car in front of the hotel.

I exited the car with a loud slam of the door, waving to Niall a haste goodbye.

********************************

As I walked up the lonely stairs and strolled down the long and winding hallways of this almost vacant hotel, I saw a feminine figure kneeling over a pile of dust, scented strongly of chlorine.

"Oh, Tomlinson! Hello, sorry I'm in front of your room, I'll just get out of the wa-"

"Oh, no. Don't worry, love, I'll help you, yeah?" I suggested, already crouching down beside her and picking up a sponge.

"Thank you. Glad to see you are in better shape tonight," The punk chuckled, nudging my shoulder playfully.

"You don't look too bad yourself. I see you took out the braids," I replied, keeping the same friendly energy she was giving to me.

"Ah, well I missed my liberty spikes, but I'm surprised you remember. You know, since you were so high when you met me."

"Hey! Leave me alone," I chuckled, for real this time, which surprised me a little. I came to the conclusion that her energy was contagious. She seemed like one of those people everyone just liked, one of those people who could brighten a room with just their voice and smile. Which explains why she would be a customer service worker. But I'm glad I ran into her, I hope that maybe I could befriend her.

"I didn't quite catch your name, love," I said, hoping to connect with her more.

She turned to face me so now I was looking at her completely.

She had on white eyeliner that contrasted well with her chocolatey skin. She had lilac lipstick on today, that matched with the light purple camisole that she wore under her black mesh top.

"Katana, but everyone calls me Kat," She smiled, holding out her hand for me to shake.

"And you already know me as Louis, but the cool people call me Tommo," I said, wagging my eyebrows at her.

"I guess I'll be calling you Tommo, then hm?" She smiled sweetly at me, rubbing out the last chlorine spot on the carpet.

"Well, that looks to be it, yeah? I'm off to hang out in London with my big brother, Ritchie. Have a good rest of your afternoon and evening, Tommo. Hope to see you around."

And with that, Kat lifted herself from the floor, giving me a small side hug as I got up as well.

"Yeah, for sure. I'm here for a couple o' months actually," I said as she straightened out the black fabric of her long gothically ruffled skirt.

"Oh, well then for sure!"

I watched her walk down the hall in her tall platforms, wondering how the hell she can even begin to walk around in those as casually as she is.

I brushed that thought out of my mind as I opened my room door, inhaling deeply, the burning scent of chlorine stuck in my nose.

I scanned my room, catching the glimpse of a couple of half-empty bottles of bourbon and merlot catching my eye,

This is going to be a long night.


	5. If You're a Bird, I'm a Bird

I stumbled into my empty flat eagerly, knowing damn well I was going to get drunk out of my mind.

I yawned into my hand as I checked the time, 14:00.

As if I would have waited if it was still before 12 though, I thought as I crouched down beside the velvety blue couch. There lay one full bottle of merlot with my name written all over it.

It was practically calling out for me as I unscrewed the cork with a loud persuading pop.

I turned myself around to lean my back against the blue cushions and swigged the reddish-purple liquid into my throat. The texture was dry, but I loved it. Merlot always had a special place in my heart because it was the first drink I ever tried. Furthermore, it had me buzzing in seconds and that was always my goal when drinking alcohol, obviously.

My blank eyes found themselves staring at the mundane shit-box of a television. It had to be at least 20 years old, only having five channels and a VHS player.

I let my eyes travel to the cabinet that the television was sitting on and opened the two doors. Inside were three shelves, each filled with familiar items.

The first shelf was stuffed to the max with colourfully spined books. I let my finger slide across it, feeling the different textures of leather, paper, and cardboard. A few Nicholas Sparks novels were littered in the mix, a couple of Charles Dickens pieces, notably Oliver Twist and Bleak House, my all-time favourite novels, and other randomly authored books. I pulled out the Oliver Twist novel and felt its weathered cover. The dark red leather that once hugged these pages had started to grow scratchy and was pealing. I traced the golden letters of the title before opening it up and smelling the pages.

Harry had always told me to smell every book before I read it. And if it smelt like it would be found deep in the archives of some magical labyrinth, then I could read it, otherwise, it was a waste. His advice was always so dorky, but that little quip never left my mind. I smiled as the familiar old book scent filled up my nose, I guess this one isn't a waste.

I hugged the book into my chest before tossing it into my suitcase. They won't miss this one book, will they? I ultimately decided that they wouldn't the second I threw it in my suitcase, so I agreed not to dwell on the subject any further.

I then looked down to the second shelf, its continents made a small smile play on my merlot-stained lips.

It only had two things resting against the dark wooden planks of the cabinet, the board game 'Sorry' and an overly large pack of cigarettes.

I opened the carton and was met with 20 fresh, stark-white, golden-grade Marlboro's.

I sat them beside my wine bottle before averting my gaze back to the board game.

Its colourful boxing was delightfully pleasant to look at, and quite frankly reminded me of my ol' buddy, Niall. Other than Truth or Dare, he always insisted to play this in the Tour Bus or hotels.

I was already feeling the buzz, but a memory that took place right in this very room played through my mind as clear as day:

"Sorry!" I barked loudly, hitting Niall's yellow pawn off of the board and replacing it with my blue one.

"Louehh!" He whined, hiding his red face in his hands. "That's the fifth time this game, give me a chance!"

"A game's a game," Harry chuckled, moving his green pawn up by five.

"You only say that because you know Louis won't use his mean cards on you!" Niall retorted, a large pout present on his face.

I rolled my eyes in response, hugging Harry tighter on my lap.

"Angel, you wanna kick those fools out?" I whispered into his curls, getting a giggle of a response out of him.

"We can hear you, lovebirds," Liam sighed, plopping down beside Niall again, this time with a red mug in his hands.

"Hey! That's my cup, Payno!" I scoffed, furrowing my eyebrows deep into my face.

"Baby, calm down," Harry soothed, "I'll wash his stank breath off of it for you."

"I don't like that Lou's sarcasm is rubbing off on you, Harry," Liam said, rolling his eyes playfully.

"How about if Loueh or Harreh win, we leave them alone, and if Niall or I win, they have to go to the club with us," Zayn chirped, moving his first red piece into his home-plate.

"Agreed, Zen," I said, taking a sip from Harry and my's water bottle.

The game continued a bit longer, with more bickering from Niall and me, until there were four pieces left on the board, all of the others in our respective home-plates.

"Dun, dun, dun," Liam teased, hugging himself behind a very concentrated Niall.

I picked up a card and read the number slowly, "11, move forward 11, or switch places with someone."

"Fuck!" Niall bellowed, flipping the entire playing surface over, the little pawns flying in all sorts of directions.

"Ouch, babes," Zayn grunted, rubbing his cheek where one of the pawns supposedly hit him.

"Hey, hey, Ni, calm down sweet-, m-mate" Liam tried to soothe him, stuttering out the last words hesitantly, receiving an uncalled for glare from Zayn.

Niall didn't seem to notice the sudden tension and ended up having another one of his little outbursts.

"But I lost! Again! How is this possible!? Louis always wins! Always!"

"Yeah, can't help it. I'm just that amazing, I'nt that right, Haz?" I asked, spinning Harry over to face me.

"You cocky bastard," Harry replied, bringing his nose down to rub gently against mine.

"I love you," He whispered, snaking his arms around my waist.

"I love y-"

"Get a bloody room," Liam interrupted, smacking his hands over his eyes.

"This IS our bloody room! Piss off, lads! Let me be with my boy!" I shouted, lifting Harry up, still with my arms wrapped around his waist.

He leaned into the grip of this new position almost immediately and linked his legs around my petite waist, peppering light kisses to the crook of my neck.

"DJ Malik is out, bros. 'M not ready for this show," Zayn said after a few comical gags.

"See you two later. Hopefully, you'll be able to walk Harry!" Liam joked, but a hint of seriousness was still present in his tone.

Niall only hopped onto Liam's back with a defeated scowl and they left the room, leaving Harry and me alone for the rest of the night to litter each other with lovebites and tell each other sweet nothings.

I leaned my head back to be flat against the couch, which byproduct created an uncomfortable strain against my neck. But I didn't care. I would much rather stare at the horribly painted ceiling than at memory-inducing rubbish.

I lifted my half-empty bottle of merlot over my head and poured it down to my open mouth, trying not to spill too much of it.

Stupid memories.

I took a large gulp and rubbed at my eyes, feeling a head rush immediately.

I defeatedly lifted my head back up to face the last shelf, movies.

The only titles facing me were 'How the Grinch Stole Christmas' and 'Grease.'

"Fuck yes!" I exclaimed, snatching the VHS from the second slot on the pile.

Yes, I know it's a crap movie. It ends with a confusing car ride into the clouds; Dany and Sandy look like they are 30-year-olds; and if it were filmed in this day and age, Dany definitely would have swung for the other team, especially with those loose hips and that limp wrist. But ever since I played Dany Zuko for my school's production of 'Grease' in the eighth grade, it has been my favourite movie.

So, I slowly removed the cover off of the tape cassette and blew off any of the dust that kissed the surface.

My trembling hands made their way to the VHS slot and I pushed the tape in, waiting for the screen to turn from black to blue.

But then I realized, my brainless ass hadn't even plugged the TV in.

I hesitantly got up from my comfortable spot on the beige carpet and ultimately plugged the telly in. I was finally met with a brilliant blue screen and the movie commenced.

Not even two minutes in and I was already reaching for the half-finished bottle, but who was counting?

I could barely even decipher which character was which on the screen after a few more velvety gulps, but to be fair, the TV screen was smaller than I was used to. Probably 16 by 16 inches, and extremely grainy at that.

All of my favourite songs played and I dramatically sang every last word. And if there was some drunken slurring, nobody had to know. I believed I sounded better than Dany, and I might have looked even prettier than Sandy when doing it.

I laughed at myself before flopping onto the couch, the side of my face hitting one of the decorative grey pillows that were thrown across it. I cradled my empty bottle of wine in my arms like a baby and continued watching the movie calmly.

30 more minutes of the movie passed, 4 more cigarette butts on the floor. I forgot how long this fucking movie was.

And then the all familiar piano riff from the intro to 'You're The One That I Want' started to fill my ears.

I closed my eyes tightly, knowing another painful flashback was on its way. I slumped my back down and let my mind travel to where it wanted me to go.

"Haz, why'd you pause it? This is like the best part," I whined, tossing a pillow at my pretty boyfriend who had just wriggled himself out from my tight hug and was walking out towards the hotel's bathroom.

"Just a minute. Bloody hell, babe," He chuckled, closing the door behind him.

I sighed deeply, grabbing a loose cigarette out of my pocket and placing it between my teeth. I patted down my body in search of a lighter, but I couldn't find one.

"Darling, did you take my lighter again?" I asked, knowing that he was the culprit even before his confession.

"Hm, Maybe," He called, "I told you I don't like tasting cancer-stick breath."

"Who says you have to taste it? I never ask nor want your kisses," I retorted playfully, smirking only slightly.

"Yeah ok Mr. Blows-Me-Kisses-Every-Interview."

"I-, I brush my teeth before interviews, bastard," I huffed, flicking my fringe dramatically, even though he couldn't see me.

"That's still you wanting my kis-"

"Will you shut it and come out of the bathroom already?"

I heard the light switch of the bathroom flick off and I immediately turned to the door.

"Haz? You've finished already?" I asked sarcastically since it's been at least ten minutes since he left me. "Hazza I'm cold!" I whined, exaggerating each of the syllables and wrapping my arms around myself for warmth.

"Stop hugging yourself and look at me, babe," Harry said cooly as he walked down the hallway, placing his hand on his hip and sticking his ass to the side as he stopped in front of me.

Harry took me by surprise with his new look. He had evidently changed his clothes, now in a tighter, more feminine, and lacey black top, black skinny jeans, and some red high heels. He also had put a little red lipstick on and teased the curls that he had been growing out for a year, attempting to make them look like the greaser version of Sandy.

I absolutely loved it. 

"Cheeky little shit," I teased through a smile.

"Tell me about it, stud," He said, unpausing the telly.

He bounced the curls that he teased playfully, blinding me with his dimpled smile.

"I got chills, they're multiplying!" I exclaimed dramatically, just as Dany did.

I fanned my hand at my face and let my jaw hang lower as he grabbed a hold of my green Adidas hoodie and pulled me to my feet.

"You better shape up, cause I need a man! And my heart is set on you!" He sang, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead before pushing me away from him. He started to dance a bit more, and quite well. Almost too well...Almost like he had practiced this.

I bet he did. He has been asking to watch 'Grease' with me for about a month now, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't catch him dancing awkwardly to himself in our bedroom mirror with this song loudly playing in his earbuds. What an absolute cutie.

The rest of the song echoed through the sitting room, but I could barely hear it. Harry and I were too busy belting it out, even after the movie finished.

When we, or more like Harry, cleaned up the sitting room, we sang it.

When we brushed our teeth, we sang it.

When I helped Harry take off his makeup, we sang it.

See a pattern here?

Well anyway, Harry and I left the bathroom with goofy smiles, peppering kisses over each other's cheeks like drunken idiots.

He yawned softly, the green fabric of my hoodie muffling his cute sound.

"You sound like a little kitten," I whispered into his ruffled curls, "My kitten."

He only hummed in response, snuggling his head further into the crook of my neck.

"Sleepytime?" I asked, holding his cheek up so he was now looking at me.

His eyes were half-closed and his once pale cheeks were now as pink as his lips.

"My pretty baby boy," I whispered as I started to undress him.

He lifted his arms in the air instinctively and I pulled off his lacey black shirt, revealing his new butterfly tattoo, however, I thought it looked like a moth.

He then shimmied out of his tight skinny jeans with my help and pulled off his purple boxers, he liked to sleep naked.

He then tugged off my grey joggers, revealing my naked bottom half; I liked to go commando.

He giggled as I pulled off my Adidas hoodie, revealing my lightly inked chest.

His hands made their way to caress my tanned hips and he pushed me onto the bed, falling on top of me. I didn't mind though, I was used to him climbing and lying on top of me by now.

He straddled me innocently and reached for the hoodie that I tossed at the end of the bed.

"What are you doing H-"

"Mine now," He proclaimed as he let the baggy fabric fall over his skinny frame.

"That's my favourite hoodie Haz," I sighed with a hint of irritation.

"Mhm, smells lots like you. So mine," He replied, letting a yawn slip through his lips before flopping on top of me once more.

He cuddled into the crook of my neck, his hands playing with the little hairs on the middle of my chest.

"Manly," He whispered, sliding his toes against my shins.

"Well, I am a big burly man."

"Little burly man," He corrected, pulling me tighter into him.

"Oh shush, baby."

He sighed deeply and I felt his hot breath fan across my neck soothingly, warming up my cold and naked body.

He started to hum against my neck and I knew what was coming.

"You better shape up," He sang softly, his words holding more weight than they did when we sang before, "Because I need a man, and my heart is set on you."

So, instead of singing the next lines, I decided to sing the part that answered his verse, "I better shape up, because you need a man who can keep you satisfied."

I kissed his hair gently, letting my lips linger a little longer than necessary before whisper-singing the last verses, "I better shape up if I'm gonna prove that your faith is justified."

I felt his eyelashes flutter closed against my neck, tickling me slightly.

"Are you sure?" He asked, veering away from the song, his voice now more vulnerable and soft.

"Yes, I'm sure down deep inside, you're the one that I want," I crooned into his chocolate curls that were flowing into my face. I didn't mind though, they were very soft and smelt like apples and cinnamon.

"Ooooh, honey," He mumbled, a dimpled smile being pressed against my hot neck. His voice was now completely groggy and broken, Harry was almost asleep.

I rubbed circles onto his soft-skinned back to quicken the process, and before I knew it, Harry's breaths evened out and his breathing got slower and heavier.

He let out a small grunt and his eyes flickered, signalling he was now dreaming.

"Sweet dreams, Hazzabear," I hummed, playing with the hood of my sweater.

And before I knew it, I fell into a deep dreamless sleep, not getting woken up until noon the next day.

"Fucking hell," I sighed, rubbing my forehead to try and get some sort of relief.

I looked over to the analog clock to my right to see that it was only 17:01, or in my eyes 'Naptime'. So, I picked up my carton of cigarettes and made my way to the bed. I didn't even bother to take my clothes off, I was too lazy and drunk to care.

I placed a cigarette into my mouth and flopped my back onto the bed, bouncing slightly at the recoil.

I grabbed the clear lighter that I coloured half with a black permanent marker and half with a red crayon and placed it at the butt of my cig. After a few attempts, I had it lit.

A couple of drowsy puffs later and I was half asleep. I smushed the cigarette against my pants and tossed it across the room.

I closed my eyes, once again falling into a dreamless sleep on this bed, hoping that this nap will cure my throbbing head.

**********************

"Ow, shit," I said, shutting my eyes tightly at the still throbbing sensation radiating through my brain.

I opened my eyes after a few more grunts and looked to the clock, 20:28.

Why does the universe hate me so? I pondered, deciding to strip myself of the sweaty t-shirt that clung to my sticky hungover body.

I stood myself up from my sitting position and made my way to my suitcase, picking up the leather-backed book and deciding to read the first page I saw. It opened up to page 28. Fuck off universe!

I threw the book back into the suitcase and trudged over to the couch once again. My heavy heart anchored my body to the floor, making each step harder and harder.

I flopped myself onto my back and stared at the still-open cabinet.

Another movie?

I slid my body lazily off the velvety smooth sofa and pulled the pile of VHS films onto my lap.

Toy Story 2, Toy Story 1, The Shining, Labyrinth, The Great Muppet Caper, and finally The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

I had already watched each of those movies ten times over, and at least an extra 10 times with the Toy Story movies because of Liam, so I decided to pull out the second pile on the shelf.

There was an out of place 'Pulp Fiction' CD on the top, then a mint-condition 'How the Grinch Stole Christmas' VHS, and then my eyes opened wide. Not because the Grinch's hands made the hairs on my neck stand up, but because of the VHS that lay underneath it. It made my heart sink to the pit of my stomach.

I pushed the rest of the VHS movies back into the cabinet and slammed the doors shut.

In my hands was Harry's favourite movie, 'The Notebook.'

I weakly placed it into the mouth of the VCR, waiting patiently for the loading screen to illuminate this room a pale blue.

And the movie started, I watched the first scene. The second. The third. But I wasn't paying attention. I was waiting for the one scene that meant the most to Harry. The one that determined our future indefinitely.

I picked up a new bottle from the minifridge, not caring what type of alcohol I took, even though it was a fresh bottle of Irish Whiskey, and cracked it open.

Then Noah and Allie finally slow-danced in the streets, just like Harry made me do every time we came to the Larimar.

More scenes passed with Allie and Noah falling for each other.

They shared so many laughs, kisses, smiles, and soon they became inseparable.

I smiled fondly at that idea, their love really seemed genuine. The chemistry in the movie was grand.

I grabbed a crystal glass and poured the whiskey into it, feeling more inclined to be classy while watching this movie.

And then I heard the crash of the rugged waters against Allie's small and excited body.

"Lou," Harry said, turning himself to face me, however, he struggled immensely because we were tightly cuddled into each other on the soft couch.

"What is it, Harry?" I asked pausing the movie in front of us.

"Do you think I'm a bird?"

"Harry, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Say I'm a bird," He whispered, a pout forming on his lips.

I kissed it away quickly, taking his lip between my teeth and tugging on it tightly, getting a low sigh out of him.

"So you wanna be the beautiful Allie then, hm?" I asked, poking where his dimples should be, "Give me a smile, baby."

He did, followed by a small light-hearted exhale. "You never said I was a bird."

"Well, Haz, if you're a bird, I'm a bird," I teased, stroking the side of his cheek gently, stopping at his jaw.

"Good," He whispered, his eyes lingering at the blues of my irises.

"Is there something else you wanna tell me, angel," I hummed, tangling my fingers into his tightly curled locks.

This was the first movie Haz and I were going to watch as a couple, and alone. He had been planning this for a week. He brought fairy lights in his suitcase, this movie, some M&M's, and a jar of peanut butter (because for some reason he liked eating that during movies).

I knew he wanted to ask me something, but I didn't want to push him too hard so I smiled softly at him, "Just eat your peanut butter, babe." I reached back for the remote once more to unpause 'The Notebook', but before I could, he slapped it out of my hand.

"For fuck's sake, Haz. What'd ya do that for?"

"I need to ask you something," He stammered, his eyes hesitantly catching everything around the sitting room except for my eyes.

"Haz, it's oka-"

"I know we only be-c-came boyfriend t-two weeks ago, but I just. I don't know. I want. I-"

"Haz, take a deep breath, I'm not going to be mad or whatever, I promise. Use your words, darling."

"O-okay, Boobear," He smiled, tracing my bottom lip with his index finger.

"Well you know how I have this tattoo," He said, pulling down his shirt to reveal the 'LOVE' banner. I nodded.

"Well, I kinda don't like it. And I want to get a cover-up," He started hesitantly, finally staring deeply into my eyes.

"I knew you'd regret that," I scoffed, lightly pushing at his chest.

"Yeah, yeah. But you know how we are birds?"

"Yeah?"

"Well what if I put two s-swallows, they mean love and loyalty, you know? And one can be me, a bigger one. A-And the other can be you, a little one. Because we are bir-"

"Y-You'd do that for me?" I asked, staring straight into his glassy eyes. They were slightly surprised and taken aback by my sudden passionate outburst, but he quickly recovered with a small smile. 

"I-I, fuck this is hard," He started, shaking his head slightly at his stuttering.

"We've known each other a while now, right?"

I smiled at his seriousness. "Yes, Haz, we have. What about it?"

"Stop being sassy, love. This. Ugh. I. You."

"Harry, what did I say about using your words?" I chuckled, bopping his nose, causing him to flinch his eyes shut.

"Can you stop being a prick for one second so I can tell you I love you?" He stammered, shaking his head lightly in his hands.

"You-"

"Wait, fuck... I messed it up," The realization of his words now dawning on him, "We were supposed to be happy watching the movie ...and then I'd talk about the tattoos ...and then I'd say it and you'd smile and say it back... and now I've missed my chance... Liam said it'd be perfect... I-I."

I had never heard him speak so fast. He was a stressed-out mess and I was a frozen idiot. My mouth had formed the shape of a small o and my once relaxed and sleepy eyes were wide.

He loves me? I couldn't believe it.

"Well, now you know. I love you, and I'm a blood stupid wanker and you don't love me. I should go. Fuck. Sorry. Enjoy the movie," He said as he stood up from his position on the couch.

He tripped over his jar of peanut butter and quickly brought his lanky body back up, running to the door.

I was still frozen in place, but the second I heard the doorknob wiggle, I jumped over the side of the couch and bolted to the blue door.

"Harry," I said, flipping his back against the door and holding him there.

He towered over me slightly, but I didn't care. I was too busy being lost in his wet and glassy eyes.

"No, baby don't cry," I whispered, pulling him into a tight hug.

He sobbed into my neck, whispering 'I'm sorry' over and over again.

"You idiot," I chuckled brokenly.

"I'm crying here!" He whined, pulling the fabric of my t-shirt into his face, wiping off his tears.

"No, not that way, Haz. I-," I paused, taking his face from my neck and bringing it to be centimetres away from my own.

He bent down a bit more, ghosting his pink lips over my red ones.

"I love you too," I breathed, taking my hands and wiping his new tears away. Except this time, they were happy tears.

"Really?" He wondered, his eyes sparkling like the crisp snow that blew against the window behind us. It was an early snow, only being mid-October, but I didn't mind. Harry and I could go make snow angels in the morning. I sighed happily before pecking his quivering lips.

"I wouldn't lie to you," I said softly, placing my hands on his hips and memorizing each little fleck of stardust that sprinkled his magically green orbs.

"Good, b-because I wouldn't lie about that either."

He slowly leaned down, fitting his lips against my upper one, taking it into his mouth and pecking it as well.

"I really do love you, Lou."

"More than Allie loves Noah?" I teased, grabbing at the collar of his shirt to bring him closer to me.

"No doubt," He answered, pulling me into another kiss, this time deeper.

Lust filled my mind as he licked my bottom lip, and I happily granted him entrance.

He swiftly took my petite body over his shoulder, causing me to shriek.

"Harreh! Put me down!"

"Not until I get you to the bed, Chop Suey!"

He struggled as he ran to the bed, only hitting me against a wall once.

He gently placed me on the bed and hopped on top of me. I grunted at the new weight I had to withstand before flipping myself on top of him. I lifted up his shirt to reach his chin and placed chaste kisses all over his tummy.

"I... love... you," I said through pecks, receiving little giggles in response.

"Louis stop that tickles!"

"Hm, well what should I do instead?" I asked, a cheeky smirk growing on my face.

Harry's tear-stained cheeks reddened deeply.

"Well?" I asked, crawling up to have my face staring down above him.

"Lou I-" He said, his cheeks burning to a bright scarlet. "I'm ready."

"N- What? Harry y-," I stuttered, staring down at the beautiful boy who lay before me.

"I want you to make love to me," He said clearly, a dark gleam of desire glazing over his now olive eyes.

"Oka- you sure?"

"I love you," He spoke simply, "... and I trust you."

"Ok," I said, my once crystal blue orbs now exploding with desire. My pupils exploding in my irises.

I met our lips halfway, immediately exploring his mouth with my tongue and tasting every bit of Harry that I could.

We made out for what felt like hours, my lips turning a reddish shade of purple.

He then flipped me over and, with my help, slipped off my shirt.

He kissed down my burning stomach, stopping at the small line of hair that lead down my belly button.

"C-Can I?" He asked, tugging at the waistband of my blue briefs.

I nodded eagerly, not breaking eye contact with him.

He pulled off my trousers and boxers in one go, sliding them down my thighs slowly.

"Tease," I whispered.

"I'm just," He sighed, "Nervous. You are- you are so beautiful."

He let his fingers linger on my once scarred thighs, tracing the letters 'I love you' against each one.

"You are always so beautiful, Harry."

He smiled deeply before shifting his gaze to my member, licking his lips before fully taking me in.

He had done this to me once last week for the first time, so he was more aware of what to do, but he was still nervous, his hands digging into my thighs tightly.

I let out a noise of pleasure as he took me in, his left hand grabbing the bit of myself that he couldn't take.

He licked up my hardened member slowly, allowing me to fully relax under his mouth.

"I love you," I moaned out breathily, bringing my hand to grab the curls at the back of his head.

He bobbed his head on me, making sure to flick his tongue each time he went down.

I was embarrassingly close, especially since he had only gone down for two minutes.

"H-Haz," I grunted, just before he took me out from his mouth and began to lick and suck on my head.

"I'm gonna-"

He completely stopped what he was doing and flipped our positions.

"I -I want you to do it inside me," He whispered shyly, hiding his face with his hands.

"Are you sure?" I asked, taking his hands away from his face and placing them above his head.

"I-I'm ready, Louis," He murmured shyly, separating his legs for me to crawl into.

"Ok, baby," I hummed, my eyes glazed over with a dizzy pleasure, "Tell me if you want to stop."

He nodded, bringing his slender hands into my feathery hair as I grabbed his legs and placed them onto my shoulders.

I licked a small stripe, travelling all the way from the dimple in his back to where his member sprouted.

He whimpered quietly, his legs squirming and shaking slightly.

"M-My first, Louis," He breathed out, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead.

"You're my first boy," I said softly. "I'm going to make you feel good, baby. You can trust me."

"Gentle?" He asked, his doe-eyes wide like a deer, vulnerability radiating off of his soft expression.

"Gentle," I responded, stroking his thighs reassuringly.

I took my mouth and kissed his rim gently, receiving small choppy breaths in return.

I licked around his hole before dipping my tongue in quickly.

"Lou!" He moaned, his hands clenching the periwinkle sheets tightly.

"Feels good?" I asked, a small smirk making it's way to my face.

He nodded his head eagerly, beckoning me to continue.

I decided to speed up the process and took two of my fingers in my mouth, salivating them before placing one slowly into his hole.

I kissed at his thighs, creating small love bites to distract him from the pain, helping him focus on the pleasure.

He tightened around my finger for a few seconds, squirming against the bed. But soon after, he whined "Move," and pushed himself down on my finger.

I started to explore the warm walls of the boy I loved, memorizing each sound that left his rose-tinted lips.

"A-Another?" He pleaded innocently, his knuckles turning a ghastly shade of white against the blue sheets.

I slowly brought my middle finger out, making sure not to hurt him too much.

"Ready?" I asked, licking the second finger once more, making sure to lube it generously.

He hummed again, his sweaty body glistening from the moonlight that shone through the large window of the bedroom.

"So beautiful," I sighed, before placing in the two fingers.

He moaned lowly, his whole body shaking under me.

He adjusted quickly, so I began exploring immediately, spreading him open as best I could.

His member twitched as I reached a harder surface inside him, his mouth forming a large O.

"Found it?" I asked shyly.

"Mhm!" He mewled, pressing himself down on me instinctively.

I pressed against it once more, watching as his eyes shut firmly.

"I-I need it," He pleaded, pressing his legs tighter against my neck.

"Are y-you sure you're ready, love?" I asked, taking my fingers out and wrapping my small hands around his shaking thighs.

"I want to feel you," He said slowly, staring deep into the ocean of my eyes.

I nodded before reaching for the nightstand, where I kept a few condoms.

"No," He quickly sighed. "I-I want to feel you. All of you."

"Oh my God- o-okay," I responded, the blue in my eyes becoming a dark pool of lust.

I spat on my hand, keeping a stern gaze on the sweaty and eager boy in front of me.

I rubbed the saliva against my semi-hard member, making sure to have more than enough of my natural lube all around it.

I hesitantly lined myself up, ghosting my tip just at his rim.

"Fuck, Lou. Please," He whined, sweat beading down his forehead, some curls sticking to his skin.

"I love you, Harry," I whispered, reaching my non-sticky hand out to grab his.

He quickly laced his fingers into mine, staring dead into my eyes before saying, "Always, I will."

That was all the reassurance I needed, and I slowly pressed myself into his tight walls.

He brokenly screamed under me, squirming and panting like a dog in heat.

"Shhh, baby. It'll be ok," I said through heavy pants. He was so fucking tight.

I bottomed out and stayed there for a few seconds, trying my hardest not to buckle under the horrid pressure that clasped around my sensitive member.

"Ok, go," He whined, his hand still holding my own tightly.

I pushed out of him gradually, getting deep moans and grunts out of my lover.

And for the first time, I made love to the boy who meant the world to me.

I learned every bit of him, felt every bump and crevice on his skin. Heard every moan and whimper.

I knew Harry fully and wholeheartedly.

He was now forever imprinted with me.

I shook my head out of that memory, not realizing I had been crying so hard my eyes hurt, or smiling so wide my cheeks ached. I must've looked like a psycho.

I sobbed loudly into my hand, drowning out the sounds coming from the small speakers of the TV.

Why can't Harry just leave me alone? I thought, staring at the lightly detailed swallow I had gotten on my wrist months after Harry had gotten his chest piece.

I flickered my gaze back onto the movie, looking at the all-familiar scene that played before me.

'...What will you do?'

'I'll be here, I'll never leave you,"

More tears rolled down my aching cheeks like a thin stream rolling down a woodland creek.

Allie asked Noah if their love had the power to grant miracles, and Noah agreed. She then asked him if their love could take them away together, and again, he agreed.

'I think our love can do anything we want it to.'

I remember teasing Harry about how cheesy and unreal this movie was. I remember wiping the tears off of his face and poking fun at how soft he got after watching this movie.

But right now, I finally felt the true pain that this movie brought. The emotional slap to the face this movie hit you with.

And then Noah slipped into the bed, holding Allie close and lacing his frail fingers through her own, squeezing lightly before closing his eyes.

Both of them drifted off, their love being strong enough to take them out at the same time.

I felt my eyes prick as the nurse came in, staring at their limp and cold bodies, but their spirits being somewhere else. They had become birds, just like Allie had wanted.

I sat there, staring at the flock of birds floating gracefully above the creek, two of the birds flying closer to each other than the others.

And then the credits stopped rolling. The names stopped appearing. It was over.

Over.

The cassette stopped swallowing the rolls of film and the VCR spat the tape out. The black screen then turned into a pepper coloured static plane, staring deep into my blue eyes.

The noise of the static created a calm white noise, drowning out the quiet voices that buzzed through my head.

I couldn't tell you how long I stared into the void that was the TV screen, nor could I tell you how many tears slipped out of my bloodshot eyes, but trust me when I say it was a lot. An embarrassing amount at that.

My silent tears were interrupted by my phone slipping out of my pocket and hitting the ground with a smash.

Slowly but surely, I reached down to the floor and picked it up, staring at the photo of Niall and Liam hugging as my wallpaper, with a tiny crack in the screen where it displayed the date.

Well, shit.

I smiled at my handsome best mates for a second before I unlocked my phone.

I knew I couldn't trust myself to be alone, but who could I call?

I didn't want to bother Niall. He is always there no matter what time, what place, what reason. Niall will hold me tight and stay there. He won't ask a single question. He only waits for me to talk, and if I do, he listens. But if I don't, which is what normally happens, we stay in silence. Right now, however, he is probably cuddled up with Liam or is playing the guitar. I couldn't bother him, I've already eaten up so much of his time lately.

On the other hand, there was Liam. Liam and I aren't as close as Niall and me, but he is one hell of a listener. Whenever I have a serious problem or vice versa, we talk it out. Usually with two Yorkshire teas. However, nowadays he tends to also eat avocado toasts with his tea. Fucking avocados, trendiest food of all time. But again, I couldn't bother him when he's with Niall, especially with Harry shit. They think I'm over him, which I am, but for some reason, it's all coming back.

Maybe because deep down I know I need to open Harry's text. But I just can't. At least not yet.

And I didn't have any other friends, so, I did what anyone would do. I scrolled through my contacts to play a game of 'call-a-random-person-roulette', which I had just made up, but sadly I couldn't read any of the letters. They were blurred from my teary eyes and drunken mind.

So, relying on the last bits of sobriety I had, I typed in the only number I had memorized,

My mother's.


	6. Broken Blue

I dialled the numbers into my android frantically, my burning eyes growing blurrier and blurrier with each slam of the keyboard.

I didn't know why I had to call her, especially since I knew it was an unhealthy coping mechanism, but at this moment, I only needed my mother.

My shaky hands clicked the call symbol hesitantly before placing the phone to my ear. I waited for the regular 8 beeps to sound before getting to voicemail.

A habitual sensation of deja vu washed over me as I listened to the answerphone message: 'You've reached, me!... Oh, well, Jay! Haha, 'M sorry I couldn't pick up, I'm probably at work or am out with my beautiful family. Call again later, or leave me a message! Wait for the beep, love!'

I practically mouthed the words as she spoke them, having had them memorized with the number of times I had listened to it.

Silence echoed through these four walls after the voicemail beep, giving my mind a chance to fully absorb and memorize each syllable and sound coming out of my mother's delicately accented voice.

"H-hey, mum, I know I told y-ou that my last call w-would be t-t-the final o-one b-but," I started, my sobs bursting through each word that I choked out, the words getting harder to speak the more I tried. "I-I really need you right n-now, y-you know? I just- it's so hard, mum."

Tears started to pour out of my broken blue eyes at a faster pace, in sync with the quick and shaky breathes that escaped my quivering lips.

"P-Please, I just need you here mum. I ca-can't deal with th-this on my own anymore. I jus-just need you to make me a cup of tea and h-hug me and tell me the right thing to do. I-I don't know what to do anymore. I-"

The words I tried to speak seemed like they were now miles away. The only thing that occupied my mind was the sudden memory of her lying in her hospital bed, barely alive, but still smiling at me as if I were the sun that brightened her entire world.

"Mumma... I want you here w-with me... I just need my mum."

I thought of our last conversations in the hospital, her chilling voice barely above a whisper. But I was lying right beside her, cuddled into her chest like I used to do when I was a baby, so I could hear her perfectly.

She told me to take care of myself, to eat, to drink, and to smile. She told me that even though her life is ending, mine didn't have to too.

But at this moment, collapsed onto the floor, sobbing into the phone like a hysterical-failure-of-a-man, my life felt as dead as it could ever be.

"I-I know I've been letting y-ou down, fuck, I-I'm so s-sorry. I-I'm t-trying-g b-but, Ha-arr-y-y, i-it's," I insisted, or well attempted to at least. I could barely even utter a single word, let alone construct a sentence. But I needed to talk to my mum, even if there was a chance she couldn't hear me.

"I-I k-eep a b-box of crackers by m-m bed a-a-and I tr-y a-and eat some every day for y-you, mum. It-It's just so h-hard. I s-swear 'm trying so hard f-for you. I love you, mum."

And with that, I hung up. I couldn't bear to think of her anymore, it hurt too goddamn much.

I grabbed my half-finished bottle of bourbon and let my glossy lips encase the tip of the neck. Leaning my head back, I let the alcohol enter my mouth and swallowed a burning gulp.

I sat with my back to the wall, staring at the static screen of the TV with silent tears pouring out of my eyes.

A world without Harry was hard but still manageable. But one without him nor my sweetheart of a mother was just too fucking hard.

I felt a familiar tickle at the bottom of my drunken stomach, so I decided to head to the bathroom, possibly to throw up whatever I had left in my system.

I shakily sprung to my feet and trudged towards the loo.

I pressed my body up to the door and let my body fall against it, landing harshly onto my bum. However, my elbows were the unluckiest as they crashed sharply into the cold tile behind me.

I winced in pain before looking down at my tangled legs and body.

My t-shirt had ridden up my frail torso, showing off my belly, if you could even call it that.

I watched myself intake a deep breath, my already tiny body being sucked into being even skinnier.

Was I really this thin?

I let my index finger glide across my flaring ribs, dipping into the deep crevices that I was now over aware of. I took in a sharp breath as I pressed my finger into the last hole harshly.

And I finally realized how hungry I have been.

My stomach started to growl, like a starved lion. It felt as if it was erupting in flames. No-, it felt as if I were a decomposing body getting eaten by maggots from the inside out. My heart sunk. Everything I told myself I wasn't, I was. I was bad again, but this time I was worse. Way worse.

I knew that for a fact as I lazily let puke slip out of my mouth. It poured down my white shirt like a hot slime, staining the fabric that I wore a dark brown to match the alcohol in my hands.

I was already slipping away now, like sand in an hourglass. Nobody was here to flip me around and restart my clock, so why not let it happen? Why not rely on old habits as well?

Habits that I told myself I couldn't break, that I promised I wouldn't break. But those promises meant nothing anymore. They were nothing to me because they were given to none other than the man who was now my reasoning behind it. As much as I told myself I didn't care about him, I do. I do and it hurts. I can't have him, nor does he want me. To him, I am nothing.

So I smiled.

I was finally allowed to let go.

I looked over at my black shaving kit that was leaning against the mirror, reflecting into my shiftless eyes.

I slowly reached over for it, gripping it by the thin string I had tied at the zipper.

My eyes scanned over the contents of the little bag. There lay a bottle of aftershave (that cost about $200 too much if you ask me), a couple of new and shiny blades, a small shaving brush, two navy blue razors, and a pair of tiny scissors.

With a twisted smile, I pulled out the blade that was inserted into my razor.

I let the pad of my thumb explore the cool contrast of the metal against it's burning hot surface.

I dragged it further along the blade and it was already dripping blood from the sharpness of the metal.

But by now, I didn't feel any pain.

The drinks had numbed out every single fibre of my being. The feelings, the emotions. I was solely left with the mere ideas of how this night will unfold, small insignificantly objective thoughts, and a dizzying freeness caused by my alcoholic venture.

My weak fingers dropped the blade with a clatter as I fell woozily to my back in a harsh crash. "Fuck," I sighed quietly, my vomit creating a putrid feeling against my back.

I picked up the blade with my bleeding hand, still lying uncomfortably on my back. I held my thin wrists above my face, studying the small tattoos that were drawn all across them. All of which, leading back to Harry.

I couldn't take it anymore, I've had enough of him clouding my head. It wasn't fair anymore.

I stared daggers into my rope tattoo; I needed to cut it loose. I needed to cut Harry loose from me.

He was no longer the rope that led me home, he was the knife that twisted in my heart. He was the star in my sky that died a million years ago, slowly burning out, but still inevitably there, hauntingly flickering in my lonely sky, taunting and misleading me in a million different directions. He was the rue of all evil. Dramatic, but my drunken mind didn't care. He was the pain that brought my "fixed" life to shit, so I needed to cut him out like he had cut and scarred me all those years ago.

And finally, I placed my blade across that cursed skin, pushing down forcefully. It broke through my paling skin like the sinking teeth of a rabid dog, quickly and dangerously, causing me to wince in an almost imperceptible manner. I was so numb, but I also cut deeply. I dragged across the rope with a corrupt sense of determination, snapping each figurative string as I went.

Prior to this night, the colour seeping out of my marks had only reached a soft strawberry. But now, it was the colour of a young syrah wine, and it poured out of me just the same.

The blood flowed downwards and dripped across my face, my neck, and the rest of my body. The arm I had cut was now shaking above my head, spewing its dark red liquid like a fireman's hose shot water. The strength in my bleeding arm had diminished and dropped to my side in a painful crash, the blood splashing against the floor's tile like a splatter of paint.

I weakly looked over at my other arm, focusing on the beautiful tattoo that I used to adore. The compass, pointing to home.

But that was no longer home, Harry wasn't my home anymore.

I had no home. I was a lost fisherman at sea, longing to find an island. But the sad part is that I knew I didn't deserve one. I only deserved the rogue waves that smashed and created holes against my boat. I deserved every ounce of water that found its way inside, slowly sinking the boat, slowly drowning me.

I felt myself disappearing into the depths of a dark pool of bloody merlot and tears; this was no way to live and I knew that.

And so I took the blood-stained blade between my teeth, since my other arm was too weak to maneuver, and debated on swallowing it before I ultimately pressed my compass tattoo into it.

I bit down against it with keen force, keeping it in place as I let my skin sink into the sharp edge. I turned my head from side to side, attempting to tear apart more skin and more of the ink. 

But then the blood started to gush sprightly out of the wound, landing directly into my mouth, causing me to choke. I spat out the blade with a quick and spurting gasp. Both of my bleeding arms now lying beside me, their raw and oozing edges facing the ceiling.

I swallowed the blood that massed in my mouth, tasting the last bits of myself that I had left.

I closed my eyes, feeling more blood pool around each wrist that lay beside me, a small smile tugging at my lips.

Finally, after all these years, I felt free.

Free as one of the birds Harry promised me I'd be.

I didn't know if it was the immense loss of blood or the litres of alcohol I consumed, but I felt myself slowly subside to the darkness that crept into my brain. My eyes sank into the heavy feeling that loomed above them, not opening again even if I wanted them to.

And as my eyes closed, I had passed out quicker than the flick of a switch, hoping that I might not wake up.


	7. Woodstock Sees the Red Baron

A warm autumn breeze sailed through the air of our flat just as sweetly as the morning sunlight painted the sleepy sky a blazing orange.

My eyelashes started to flutter open gently, like the soft kisses of a butterfly, revealing my diamond orbs. They were quickly met with the relentlessly bright rays of the sun, casting a gentle golden across my face, as well as the naked torso that lay beside me, Liam.

I smiled softly as his tender face began to scrunch. He mumbled a quiet, incoherent blurb before sleepily turning around, resuming his light snores.

I watched as the sun caressed the muscles of his toned back, rippling with every movement he made. I placed one solemn kiss to the middle of his spine before sitting up, dangling my legs over the edge of the bed as I did when I was a child.

I rubbed my eyes tightly as I grabbed my phone from my small creme-painted nightstand. I checked the time, 6:57, before letting the phone fall into the pocket of my satin crafted pyjama bottoms. I had always loved these trousers as they were a dark shade of pine and were embroidered with emerald-coloured shamrocks.

I finally let my bare feet touch the floor. My toes tickled against the fuzzy amber carpet, searching for my bunny slippers that I toss under our bed every night. 

My big toe clung to a floppy ear and I pulled it out in front of me, slipping it on gracefully. I found the other a few seconds later and put it on as well.

I tied the drawstrings into a bow as I stood up, leaving for the balcony that over-looked the London skyline.

I slid the screen door open since the glass had been left gaped open all night, walking across the concrete floor until I reached the iron rails.

I took a deep hearty breath, closing my eyes lightly and letting the mellow breeze tickle my naked chest. I let out an exaggerated yawn before opening my eyes again. Liam told me it was a foul habit of mine, which only made me dramatize my yawns even more.

My eyes began to wander across the awakening skyline with a golden smile plastered against my lips. There were a couple of lonely clouds that were drifting across the sky in quick gusts, but other than that, it was a rather clear and beautiful day. My smile grew wider as I thought of what the day might bring me.

Maybe I'll go surprise Louis with some tea and muffins!

I thought about the many flavours I could get us, ultimately choosing to go with a banana nut and blueberry chocolate chip for me, and a chocolate peanut butter one for him since I knew it was his favourite.

I debated on texting him, but I knew it would be no use, he would never be awake earlier than nine if he could choose, so I left his inbox alone.

I gave a sad smile to the smiling face of his contact picture. He hadn't been the same since Harry. Nor before, nor after.

Louis told me he was a shy child who was ruthlessly bullied growing up. He had told me he used to let Jay paint his nails to match his eyes, make friendship bracelets with the girls at recess, and read book after book during his free time. Because of that, the boys in his grade and older would bully Louis, whether it be physical or verbal, which shattered my heart. He was labelled a fag, mistake, loser, and countless other harmful (and untrue) words. Louis was such a pure soul, who ended up using the blades of his pencil sharpness as a coping mechanism. He told me he ended up going to mental hospitals all throughout his childhood, the last time being when he was 17. But when he came to the X-Factor and met Harry, he came out of his cracked shell completely. Harry had kissed his scars clean and made Louis feel like a real person again. Louis became the loud, flamboyant, and hilarious guy I had grown to love. If he wasn't making me laugh like a hyena, he was making the whole world melt for his soft boyish charm. However, before any of us could bat an eye, after 3 years of being together, Harry completely turned Louis' life upside down. He had broken up with him and Louis was never the same. He never left his room for months after that. He only got out for tours and some rehearsals, always hiding from the piercing green eyes of Harry.

I shook my head of the nasty thoughts, realizing that my dare had been so utterly stupid. I had pushed him even further into his rut, so I had to try and make up for it. I nodded to myself briefly, thinking about what I'd do to cheer up my best mate today.

My thoughts began to float around my head like the dusting of pollen through a summer sky, and I was never able to cling onto a single one. But it wasn't frantic like it sometimes is, it was mellow. I felt freestanding as I paced across the concrete, the breeze caressing every hair on my body.

All of a sudden I started to hear a melody form in my head, flowing through me effortlessly. I hummed it into the wind as I pulled out my phone and began recording it.

This will be perfect for the EP.

Truth be told, all the songs Louis and I have been coming up with have been absolute shit. We have been having too much fun dicking around I suppose. That's why I invited Liam to come to our next studio session. He was always so good at keeping us two baboons in line. Mr. Sensible Daddy Direction.

I brought my eyes back to focus on the beautiful sight before me. I began to trace the outlines of the buildings that scattered the horizon, noting the different heights and colours.

Finally, my eyes met up with the harshly bright outline of the sun, who shyly hid behind a wide government building.

The sky blushed a dazzling shade of pink as she realized I had been watching her unfold. It mingled with the golden yellow rays of the slowly awakening sun, a gleaming orange brewing between them.

The sun shone brighter on my face now, as she had emerged from behind the building and floated confidently in the sky. She kissed my face and body tenderly, sending sunny shivers through my body.

I stood out there until I felt two strong hands grab my shoulders and begin to massage them slowly.

"Been out long?" He hummed against the crook of my neck, dropping small pecks and nibbles to my warm skin.

"The same as always," I reply leaning into each touch he spared me.

"Come back to bed please?" He pouted, pulling the waistband of my pants closer to him.

I hummed in response, now feeling his body flat against my back, feeling each breath he took, each flex of his muscles, everything.

"Persuasive," I chuckled, turning myself around to meet his dark cinnamon eyes.

"Is that a yes, darling?" He asked, placing his hands on my love handles carefully.

He pulled me in flush with his chest and leaned down to place a small kiss on my shoulder, causing me to blush deeply.

As hard as it was to deny my lover of some snuggles in our king-sized bed, I let out a shy "Nope," popping the p every so slightly.

His face scrunched up to express a dramatized sadness, "And why is that, beautiful?"

"Gonna cheer Louis up today! Just us two boyos," I exclaimed, wriggling myself out of his grip and heading back to our bedroom.

"But, Ni," He protested, tackling me onto the bed, hovering on top of me.

"And it's a big butt," I chuckled, squeezing his ass with a hungry smirk.

"Just ten minutes?" He begged as he dropped his weight and fell on top of me.

"Ah! Big burly bear... Can't... Breathe," I huffed out, attempting to pry his strong body off of mine.

"Fine, leave me then. All alone," He replied, wiping a fake tear from his eye as he rolled off of me.

I decided not to respond to him and threw on one of his baggy flannels over my sunkissed body, lazily buttoning it up. Next, I danced off my pyjama trousers, trying to ignore Liams lustful stare, and replaced them with a pair of black boxers and a pair of dark grey chinos that fit rather loosely to my body. Presumably, they were Liam's, but I wore his clothes most of the time anyway.

"See ya in a couple a' hours, loverboy!" I hollered as I left the bedroom.

"No kiss goodbye?"

"Come get one," I called from the kitchen, followed by some exaggerated kissy noises.

I heard the pitter-patter of his footsteps echo through the condo until he reached where I stood.

He took my waist in his hands and pulled me into a tight hug. He nuzzled his face into my neck and took in a deep and sad breath.

"I'll miss you," He whispered.

"I'll miss ya too," I said, pulling his face from my neck and pressing my lips against his softly.

I felt a tingle go through my spine as he gripped at the hairs at the nape of my neck. I groaned quietly and he took the chance to deepen the kiss.

I melted into the touches he placed at my neck, lips, and body, feeling completely compliant in his arms.

Wait a minute, I thought, pushing him off of me.

"I know what you are doing!" I chuckled, wiping the warm spit off of my lips, "Tryna get me to stay. Naughty man! I'll see ya tonight."

"Make sure you bring pizza!" He called, tapping my ass lightly.

"Yeah of course," I rolled my eyes, picking up a banana, my pre-breakfast snack, before heading out of our flat, heading towards Louis.

~~~~~~~~

I had securely placed my box of muffins into the passenger's seat, making sure to lock them in place with a trusty seat belt.

I chuckled at myself before continuing my finger drumming against the steering wheel.

I may or may not have been listening to 'Losing My Religion'. And if 'Strip That Down' came on a few times, nobody had to know.

I continued down the road for a few more mindless minutes before I neared the familiar pine-lined road. I squealed in excitement and turned up the volume to match my loud tone. I was so excited to see Louis. I was going to take him swimming at the hotel's pool; then, we'd eat the muffins (I may or may not have already eaten my first muffin); after, I'd take him to that little bookshop in the heart of London to buy him a copy of 'Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde' since he has been telling me about how he keeps putting off reading it; and finally, we'd just chill in his hotel room and I'd play him the melody I was working on this morning, but the lyrics I come up with will be a secret. All in all, it was just going to be perfect.

I took a quick left turn and watched as the pines started to disperse, signalling that I was veering close to the clearing. I pressed my foot on the gas pedal and unrolled my windows concurrently.

"Woohoo," I called into the wind, feeling the breeze brush through my light bronze hair.

Soon enough, I reached the familiar turquoise sign that read 'Welcome to The Larimar'. I whipped my car into the parking lot quickly, stealing a spot close to the entryway.

I pulled my muffin box out carefully and slammed the silver door shut, locking it before skipping to the big white doors. I let my fingers glide across the steel blue wood panels that wrapped around the hotel's exterior, hoping I wouldn't get a splinter as I felt the gritty texture.

I swung the door open and was greeted by a familiar girl with chocolatey brown skin and a dazzling smile.

"Welcome to The Larimar, what can I do for you?" She smiled, waving gently at me.

"Hey love," I waved back, walking towards her and placing my hands upon the counter. Where do I know her from?

"Are you here to see Tomm- Louis?" She asked, giving me an inquisitive expression, pouting her maroon coloured lips.

"Yeah! You're the punk from the night I was high!" I chuckled, smacking my forehead, "Sorry about that, sweetheart."

"Oh no worries, do you need the key to his room?"

"Yeah, if you don't mind," I replied, giving her a sheepish smile as I scratched the back of my neck.

"Oh, it's no bother...uh?"

"Niall, the name's Niall," I said, reaching my hand out for her to shake.

"Ah, nice to meet you, Niall. I'm Katana," She smiled, grabbing my hand in hers and giving it a firm shake.

She handed me the spare key and waved me off, but not before telling me 'that it is 9 in the morning and I should wait until noon to get high'. I chuckled at her little quip before heading up the wooden-railed stairs, hopping up every two steps eagerly.

I made it up the two flights of stairs exasperatedly and mosied on down the hallway.

Was I smelling pool cleaner? Chlorine? Jeez, that stuff is strong.

I jiggled the golden doorknob a few times, cursing under my breath about a certain Doncaster-twat who locked it. How was I going to get in now?

Oh right, the keys. I mentally face palmed myself.

My cheeks blushed an embarrassing shade of rose as I stuffed my hand down my back pocket to pick up the small silver key. I ran my index finger over the smooth yet jagged edge before jamming it into the slot and opening the door with a click.

"Loueh! Wakey wakey, I have muffins!" I bellowed, slamming the door behind me.

I skipped over towards the dark coffee table and placed the muffins atop one of the piles of VHS films.

"You had a movie night without Liam and me? Rude," I said, dragging out the syllables like a whiny child.

I giggled as I tripped over one of his bags, containing a leather-backed book.

Of course he'd steal a book out of all things.

His bed was empty, surprising me. I would have thought he'd still be asleep.

I pulled out my phone to check the time, seeing that it's barely past 9. That's odd.

Might be making himself tea, I thought as I spun myself towards the small hallway leading to a mini kitchenette and a bathroom.

I flicked off my shoes with a grunt and threw them over at the door, seeing as I assumed I'd be staying longer than expected, and began towards the kitchen.

My socked feet touched the cool powder blue tiles of the kitchen floor as I stepped through the door, but to my demise, not a single Louis was in sight. Only two vacant and wooden chairs tucked into a matching table.

I sighed, knowing he'd probably be letting out his morning fluids in the bathroom.

"You dropping a Duke of Cambridge in there, mat-,"

But just as I opened the door, a sight that no man should ever witness lay before me.

A feeling of absolute horror washed over me as I dropped to my knees, falling into a shallow pool of blood.

A small blade lay down at my newly stained knee, half of it painted with dried blood. My heart dropped as I picked it up, my eyes beginning to water.

But what killed me the most was the one who lay amongst it all, a limp bodied Louis, scratched up, milky skin painted red like a canvas, and by the looks of it, dead.

I couldn't move. The only thing I could do was shake my head, hoping it would help to wake me out of this bad dream.

I tried to open my mouth to speak, but my lips betrayed me. They instead quivered violently, my other limbs falling suit. But what would I even say? It's not like he would be able to answer me.

My shaking hands made their way to my mouth, covering it as I muffed a broken sob.

I didn't know what to think. I didn't know what to do. All I could focus on was the feeling of the pools of blood leaking into my chinos. It felt so real.

"L-Louis," I croaked out as I began to shuffle forward, feeling the blood slosh underneath me.

I whimpered quietly as I finally was close enough to touch him. I bit my bottom lip to stop it from quivering, but it only led them to buckle under the new pressure.

I bit on my swelling lip harder as I reach out to touch his face. My index finger started to follow his jawline at a slow pace, testing the waters almost. But then, I reached my hand out to touch his face, caressing his cold cheek with my masculine hands.

I hesitantly placed the pad of my thumb against his purple lip, amicably tracing the thin line with a weak smile. It then made its way to his ear, tracing the cool shell and stopping at the soft-skinned lobe.

I let out a deep stifled breath as I reached out to touch the hair that tickled his forehead, brushing it back gently, feeling the dried blood invading the once feathery brown hair. Once it has all found its way to the back of his head, I began to stroke his temples like my mother did to me before I would fall asleep.

I leaned down painfully slow, placing a chaste kiss to the middle of his forehead, my quivering lips lingering there for longer than I planned.

I brought both of my hands to rest at both of his cheeks as I sobbed, my lips still ghosting the cool skin of his forehead.

"W-w-why?" I cried, lifting his waist and sitting it up against the wall. His head lulled to the side in a lifeless fashion, causing more tears to erupt out of my eyes.

I pulled him in closer to me, bringing him to lay motionless in my lap, his heavy chest pressed into mine.

I hugged him tightly, crying brokenly into the crook of his neck.

"L-L-Louis, why would you do this to yourself? To me?" I screamed, loud sobs bursting through my once painful whisper, "What about me?"

I violently shook my head as I pictured him doing it. Sitting alone in the bathroom and crying his eyes out, when he could have called me. Bringing the blade to his wrists, when he could have texted me. "H-how could you?" I asked, letting my fingers fondle his hair once again. How could you?

I squeezed him painfully tighter into my chest, my knuckles veering a whiter shade of pale.

My veins began to pop out from my sickly ivory skin, revealing small trails of blue and purple against my wrists.

My knuckles strained against the vomit and blood strained t-shirt he wore, but I couldn't let go.

I unyieldingly screamed into the shoulder that was pressed against my tear-stained cheek, letting out mournful curses and sobs.

"C-Come back," I wailed, "J-Just come back."

My body stopped shaking as I solely focused on the feeling of his skin, almost starting to reflect the heat that came from my body. I closed my eyes tightly as I brought his limp arms around me and held them there, pretending he was wrapping me up in a final hug.

"Please don't go," I whispered into his hair, my bloodshot eyes still emitting burning hot tears.

I repeated those three words over and over again, grabbing a large handful of the pendulous brown locks at the back of his head.

"D-Don't leave me here, Louis. Please, j-just don't go."

I finally let his body out of his grasp, gently setting his head against my legs that I had criss-crossed.

I stared down at his lightly closed eyelids and watched as one of my tears splashed off of his nose, and another, and another.

They all flowed down his neck, getting absorbed into the ratty collar of his t-shirt. I sedately placed my hand over his heart, whispering his name over and over again as I let my final tears slip out of my eyes.

"R-Rest easy, Louis. I-I do-on't know what I'll do without you," I said, closing my eyes impossibly tight, scrunching my nose at the pain.

I couldn't cry anymore. I just had to call the ambulance and then Liam, something I should have done a while ago. I had to man up.

Just as I was about to take my hand away from his chest, I felt a meek movement underneath me.

"No, no, no, no," I repeated, shaking my head. I was just imagining things.

The shift underneath me happened again. What the hell?

I studied his cold face, watching as his eyelashes began to flutter.

"Louis?"

I wiped the tears off of my face and placed my ear to his heart.

"^-----^-----^-----^-----^"

He is alive.

My heart swelled as I watched the corners of his mouth twitch. His cheeks, which were once a ghastly shade of white, began warm-up, a pinkish undertone resurfacing.

I pulled him back up into my chest and uncrossed my legs. His back was now leaning against my chest, my arms wrapped around his middle.

I began to pull him backwards, shifting us to sit against the back wall of the porcelain shower behind me.

I watched him lull his head groggily to the side, his eyes fluttering open for a fraction of a second before closing shut.

"Just hold on. I'll get you cleaned up."

I wriggled myself out from behind him and propped him up against the wall.

I brought myself to my feet and looked down at him, smiling at his sleepy body.

"You are alive," I hummed, turning on my heel towards the counter.

I stepped through the puddles of blood on the floor and picked up his shaving kit, searching for a pair of scissors.

I grabbed them quickly and crouched down in front of him, pulling at the hem of his t-shirt. I began to cut through the stained and cheap fabric, ripping it off him after only a few weak cuts.

I stared in shock at his frail figure. The dips of his ribs were defined and almost skeletal. I sobbed out a broken cry as my fingers ran down it.

I knew he was skinny, but I hadn't thought it was this bad.

The next to go were his indefinitely ruined pants. The colour of the fabric had almost completely changed to a dried up brownish red, so I began to cut them off.

He was left in his boxers, surprisingly they were unstained, from what I could see.

I hopped back up and removed the showerhead from its holder, spinning it around in my hand before sitting in front of him once more.

I reached behind him and let the hot water run, making sure it was lukewarm before allowing the water to pass through the showerhead.

Louis let out deeper breathes now, they were still shallow, but he was gaining more consciousness as time passed.

I let the water fall against his bare chest, rubbing a bar of soap against the patches of blood that had made their way through the shirt.

I leaned his body forwards and scrubbed his back clean, making sure that I left no stains.

I migrated to his legs and began to wash those, being extra careful not to get any soap into his old scars.

I then looked at his arms and stared at the rope-tattooed one, observing the small droplets of blood that stuck out from the wound.

I shook my head quickly and began to srub his wrists clean.

He winced, hissed, and grunted when the water hit his arm. His weak body attempting and failing at getting away from me.

After a few more minutes, my pants were completely soaked and his wrists were washed almost entirely clean.

I decided I might as well wash his hair, seeing as there was dried blood in it anyway, and reached up for the shampoo-conditioner mix. It had a small apple and tea leaf on the label and smelled like heaven.

I massaged the mixture onto my hands before running it through his dripping wet locks.

He smiled gently as I massaged the shampoo into his hair. I chuckled at his groggy self, damning him for being such an adorable puppy dog.

Once I knew he was clean, I lifted him bridal style into my arms, letting his wet head cuddle itself into my dry shirt.

I walked through the stained floor and made my way towards his warm bed.

I placed his back against the headboard and bombarded him with pillows.

I fondled the dripping hairs that covered his forehead and slicked them back gently. I then sat up from his bed in search of his blue and yellow duck pyjamas and a first aid kit.

I spotted the fluffy blue and yellow trousers in an instant as they had been thrown to the other side of the bed. But the first-aid kit, however, took longer. I ended up finding it in the kitchen.

I walked back over to see Louis had moved slightly, his eyes now blinking lazily.

I slipped on his fluffy pyjama bottoms easily, watching him squirm from the ticklish touches I placed against his legs.

I reached for the first aid kit and began rummaging through it, looking for a needle and thread. Maybe some alcohol and cotton swabs as well. All the clanking I was making shot stringing pain into my ears, but I didn't care. I needed to fix his cuts as soon as possible.

But, just as I pulled out a small needle and string, a deep grunt filled the room.

I turned around with a jerk to see Louis staring daggers into my worried eyes.

His eyebrows furrowed deeply into his forehead, lips thin and purple, muttering inaudible blurbs under his breath.

"Louis," I beamed, "You're awake!"

"I didn't cut deep enough," He whispered.

"W-W-What?" I asked, tears starting to prick at my eyes once more.

"I didn't cut deep enough!" He roared, his thunderous tone causing me to flinch.

He began to scratch at his newly washed cuts, screaming as they started to bleed again.

"Louis! Stop!" I begged, feeling his hot blood drip against my wrists as I reach out to stop him.

Tears began to spill out of his clenched eyes, his whole body trembling as he covered his face with his bloody hands.

I let him cry in silence, taking deep breaths as I rubbed up and down on my thighs.

His sharp breaths began to calm down, so I took my chance to attempt to break through to him.

"Louis, w-when was the last time you ate? Or did something like this?"

"Niall I am fine! Leave me alone!" He shrieked back, a tone of pure hysteria taking over.

"P-Please come home with me... L-Liam and I can make you a meal. I'll get pizza," I frowned, reaching to touch his exposed ribcage, "So skinny."

"Niall, I said I'm fine. Don't push it!" He warned, slapping my hand away from him, his jaw clenching firmly.

"Or I could drive us to the Hos-"

"I'm not going to the Hospital! I can't! I can't do it again! I'm an adult and can make my own damn decisions. Get the fuck out of my face!" He screamed, tightly pulling at his hair, his fists clenched and trembling.

"L-Louis, please," I whispered, taking a step closer to him.

"No! I'm not going back to one, ever. You know that!"

I sighed, my eyes returning to their bloodshot state, more tears falling down my cheeks.

I knew he wouldn't let me take him to one, even if he got hit by a car. I think part of the reason is that they remind him of his mother. She was a nurse and would always bring Louis thereafter elementary school. He told me she would sneak him a blue lollipop from her desk and they would return home.

The other reason being that he used to go there because of his mental state growing up.

I bit my lip to stop it from pouting and let out a deep sigh. I started to shake my head once more just as a deep anger began to boil through my veins. I clenched my fist tightly and let the trapped tears flow out of my eyes.

"Y-You told me you w-wouldn't leave. You promised!" I screamed, he stayed dauntingly silent, "You said you wouldn't l-leave me l-like Zayn did. You... I just- I cant lose another best friend."

At the mention of his name, Louis' face dropped. He opened his bandaged arms for me to walk into and so I buried my face in the now warm crook of his neck.

"I-, I just. 'M trying so hard, Nialler. I-I promise I won't go," He whispered, stroking the brunette hairs at the back of my head.

"I don't wanna lose another best friend," I choked out, shaking my head no as I clung tighter to him.

"You won't, Niall."

And with that, he let go of me, now grabbing the cloth and placing it in his mouth. He handed me the numbing cream and needle, along with a roll of thread.

"Ok," I huffed, smiling through the tears.

He whimpered as I ran my thumb along the first cut. I brought my lips to it and gently placed a kiss on it.

"It's gonna hurt," I whispered as I fed the string through the needle's loop. He nodded in response as I flipped open the lid of the numbing cream.

I gently massaged the gel around the knawed skin around his cut and hesitantly brought the needle to his flesh.

"1... 2...," I warned, taking unnecessarily long pauses between each number.

I brought my needle wielding hand and punctured through the skin as I let out a quiet '3'.

I heard his muffled scream pound into my ear.

"Fmmmmmmmmck,"

I hushed him quietly as I sewed five more stitches. His screams were relentless in my ears and I couldn't help but flinch every time he cried out.

"Two more, Tommo. Just two more," I hummed, patting his thigh amicably.

He nodded sharply as I continued to tie in the last two stitches.

I grabbed the little bottle of alcohol from the first aid kit, along with two large bandages, a handful of cotton balls, and a roll of gauze.

His forearms vibrated violently as I dabbed the alcohol-soaked cotton onto his wound.

"Shh, Louis," I soothed, gently stroking the small bit of un-cut skin on his wrist.

I ripped the plastic off of the first bandage before placing it gently around the lightly oozing area. I then unravelled the gauze and tied the tip to his index finger, rolling it around his knuckle, then his palm, and then around the bandaged wrist.

I gave him a little breather as I prepared the next needle and brought out another roll of gauze.

Once again, I kissed the wound before quickly inserting the needle into the raw edges of his skin.

This time I only sewed in four stitches, as the wound was sizeably smaller.

I repeated the same steps with the alcohol and gauze before patting him gently on the back.

"C-Could I just stay? I want to make sure you're ok," I sighed, my head hanging low and staring at my blood-stained hands.

"Niall, 'm sorry, but no," He said after a long silence, "I just need to be alone. I'm alright."

"B-But y-ou just tried to k-kill yoursel-"

"No, Niall!" He yelled, bringing his bandaged arms to cover his face, "I was drunk and stupid. I'm alright! I'm not gonna say it again. Please leave."

He pointed me to the door and handed me my blueberry muffin, "I'll make sure to eat the peanut butter one for you."

I smiled weakly as he gave me the muffin with quivering hands.

"Thank you," I said quietly, pulling him into a gentle hug.

"Don't sweat it," He replied, tapping my back as he let go.

"See you Tuesday in the studio, right?"

"For sure, my little leprechaun," He said, smiling feebly as he closed the door in front of me.

I stared at the broken blue paint before me and let another tear fall.

What if I never came to visit him?

My face reddened as I began to jog out of the Larimar and towards my car, with two names buzzing through my brain:

Louis and Zayn.


	8. Flashbacks on Fenton Street

My footsteps pounded down the spiral staircases of this haunted hotel.

I glided down the next hallway, my feet following me aimlessly.

All the corridors were empty, but not as empty as my heavily beating heart. Or maybe it was just too mind-numbingly full for me to focus on the pain; full of the never-ending spiral of the battle between whose fault it was, Harry's or mine. But sadly, all signs pointed back to me.

I made him play the game, I pushed him too hard, I sent the text, I took him to their spot, I made him eat, and finally, I dragged the blade across his skin. Whether it was intentional or not, it was all my damn fault and I would never forgive myself for that.

What if it had been worse? What if I felt no pulse at all?

I could have killed him.

My brain began to fog up with the new waves of pain that crashed against the abashed rocks that were me and my wretched ideas; so, my desolate legs began to slam against the floor harder, my feet pushing off the regal rugs like bolts of lightning.

I was running, and I was running fast. My bloodshot eyes burned as I sped up, more tears flowing due to the intense cadence.

I stumbled down the last few stairs with laboured breaths, not even paying any attention to the smiling Katana who waved at me.

I slammed my blood-stained hands against the french doors of the foyer, over-flexing them due to the sheer force I applied.

The snap of the hinges didn't even cause my paranoia-pumped body to flinch, I was too determined to get into my car.

I grabbed the raindrop-engulfed handle with my grubby hands and jolted it open with a defeated grunt. I rolled my shaken body into the car, slumping back into the soft velvet of the seats behind me.

My knuckles gripped the leather-backed wheel with a vigour unlike no other. They began to shake as my burning eyes held back more tears. But I couldn't let them fall.

Why should I be allowed to cry when all of this mess was mine? Crying would solve nothing, but doing something could.

However, what could I do to fix this?

He wouldn't let me be around him after what I did, would he?

My brain spun at the mere thought, my lungs being even more dramatic as they began to heave longer and rockier breaths.

My hands made their way to the ignition and I stuck the key inside of it, but before I could press on the gas, a small, Doncaster accented voice echoed through my mosh pitted memory: I didn't cut deep enough.

I began to shudder as flashbacks started to cross my mind and overlap each other as if I had multiple tabs open. Their separate colours and sounds bashing against each other garishly as they lapsed.

While more and more blood poured through my memory, along with angry words, soft touches, and torn skin, a familiar sting erupted from my eyes and nose.

A deeper prick burning from the reservoir of my eyes.

"Stop crying!" I screamed, slamming my reddening face against the centre of the wheel. 

More tears flowed as the intense pain shot through each lavender vein of my forehead, so I slammed it once more, this time triggering the horn. I slammed it again and again until I felt blood streaming down my nose, tickling my quivering lips and chin. I leaned myself against the head cushion and I brought my hands up to my face, letting my fingers feel the warm blood trickle down my blemished skin. I smeared it against my palms as I covered my eyes with them.

"I c-can't-" I yelled, suddenly striking the steering wheel once more, except this time it was with my hands. "I just- So stupid!"

"I can't lose another best friend," I sobbed, bringing my throbbing hands back to my face to catch my tears.

Never in my life have I cried this much, and I only have myself to blame.

I glanced over at the nautical-bricked hotel, scanning the third-floor to find the larger window of 28 B.

I watched and saw the shutters close softly, Louis had decided to rest.

I closed my eyes reassuringly as my last soft tears fell down my cheeks. I wished he would have let me take care of him at least for a bit longer.

I sighed, finally pressing on the gas, after draining the battery for at least ten minutes, and backed out of the parking lot.

I started to cruise down the exit, heading home to get some needed cuddles from my teddy bear.

I didn't play any songs on the radio, I solely listened to the cloying chirps coming from the thousands upon thousands of chickadees that nested in the forests I drove past.

I looked over the treeline and watched the sun smile at me, causing a small warmth to develop in my chest.

But before I could continue down the road, Liam's first verses in Moments played loudly through the shitty speaker of my iPhone. It used to be the first verses of Home, but I decided he sounded more like a sweet little muffin in this song.

Since there were no other cars on the road, I was able to pull over quickly, and picked up the phone, smiling as I heard an excited exhale come from the other end.

"Hey, honey. How's it going with Louis?" He asked, his voice innocent and casual.

Why was he being so calm-

And then it hit me. Liam still thought I was having a fun day with Louis. He didn't see the blood. He didn't hear the screams. He didn't even see the way I cried to myself in the car. He still thought Louis was ok.

"Niall?"

"Yeah! It's going great over here! Nothing bad happened! We're all fine!" I exclaimed, dragging out each cheerful undertone as if I were talking to a little child.

"Niall, the hell? Are you sure you're alrig-"

But before he could finish his sentence, I hung up without a single warning.

I knew it was wrong to lie to him, trust me. But I couldn't just tell him something like that over the phone, I had to do it in person.

But now he thought I was going to be with Louis all day, shit.

I picked up my phone once more and checked the time, only 10:40; I'd have to find a way to entertain myself for about five more hours before coming back home.

I decided that it would be a smart idea to clean out my car since I hadn't done so for about two years.

I reached for the backseat and clung to a lonely sweatshirt with the words British Rogue on them. Of course Louis would leave his shit in here.

I shimmied the grey hoodie over my flannel-clad chest and headed for the boot of the car.

The cleaning went by smoother than expected. I had left about ten Nando's' bags in the trunk and used those to put the trash inside.

I found about three of Louis or Liam's hoodies in the backseat, some discarded pieces of mouldy chicken, and lots and lots of wrappers. The stench was absolutely dreadful, but at least the backs were all clean.

I returned to the front with a new Nando's bag and began to pick up the odd gum or granola bar wrapper that one of us tossed. Once that was all cleaned up, I opened up the glove compartment.

I picked up the almost empty carton of cigarettes and placed it in the cupholder.

I then started to grab all of the loose papers in there, some containing little drawings, the others containing lyrics from old songs one of us wrote.

But just as I thought it was empty, a small polaroid picture sat in the far back.

My eyebrows furrowed as I reached for the medium-sized square.

I pulled it out swiftly and examined the shot, my heart dropping as I noticed the handsome character who stood beside Liam and Louis.

"Z-Zayn?" I said, but it came out as more of a question as fear flushed over my entire body.

I crumpled the photo in my hand and clenched my eyes shut. I knew exactly when that photo was taken, not only because the date was written at the bottom flap, but also because that day was burned into my memory.

May 26th, 2013, the day I got back together with Liam and the day my friendship with Zayn crumbled to the ground, leaving nothing but rubble and heartache.

~~~~~~~

I walked hand in hand with Liam, a new ring present on my middle finger. One that was engraved with the words 'from 18 until forever'.

He had given it to me at some fancy restaurant in Portugal, straight after we left our final concert in Europe for our 'Take Me Home' tour.

But, after one and a half years of having an on-and-off relationship, Liam promised he'd be my forever until the end, and I couldn't be more grateful.

Some may say we are too young, and I did know that. I was only going to be turning 20 that year, but I knew I couldn't picture my life with anyone but Liam.

He told me we 'didn't have to get married tomorrow' but that this ring was a symbol of his love for me, and that he'd wait as long as I needed to tie the knot.

Which brought me back to now, smiling as I swayed our linked fingers together.

"I love you, Li," I hummed, opening the entrance door to the hotel.

"I love you too, baby," He smiled, giving me an exaggerated peck on the cheek.

It was sloppy and wet, but I didn't care, I was too busy giggling as he pulled me towards our room where the boys would be waiting for us.

We kissed in the elevator sweetly, thanking the gods that nobody else was in there to stop us, though I didn't think they could've no matter how hard they tried anyway.

I hopped on Liam's back as we exited the elevator, kissing and snuggling into his neck as he led us with ease towards our destination.

He opened the door, which to our luck was unlocked, and entered. He threw me over his shoulder and spun my chuckling body onto his bed.

Inside, Zayn, Harry, and Louis were lying down and watching some 'Harry Potter' film.

"Why is he so rowdy?" Louis asked Liam, smiling slightly as Harry leaned in closer to him.

"Well," Liam started, looking back at me for a second before the others, "I took him on a nice date and gave him a promise ring."

Soft awes were heard from Louis and Harry, but what broke the smile on my face was the sound of disgust coming from Zayn.

"Are you kidding, Li?" He roared, standing up from the mahogany barcalounger and unplugging the TV.

"Hey!" Louis whined, but Harry shushed him before Zayn let his wrath out on him as well.

"Yeah, I love Niall," Liam smiled, reaching for my hand and pulling me up beside him.

"Not what you said two months ago," He scoffed, snapping open a bottle of vodka and drinking it straight.

"What is he talking about?" I whispered, turning a scared-looking Liam to face me.

"Niall it's really noth-"

"No, it's fucking not!" Zayn yelled, slamming the bottle against the table, causing the half-full bottle to shatter due to the intense force he applied.

Everyone in the room flinched, silence swallowing us all for what felt like hours.

"Z-Zayn calm down. What happened?" I asked again, stepping closer to try and soothe the angry man before me.

"Don't touch me, fag," He snapped, slapping away the hand that I placed on his tense shoulder.

"E-Excuse m-me?" I said, biting my newly quivering lip.

"Oh? He didn't tell you, did he?" Zayn growled, smirking maliciously at me.

"No, Zayn. Don-" Liam tried, stepping closer to us but I pushed him back.

Tears pooled in my eyes as I felt the air between us three thicken, "N-No, Liam. I think I want to hear what he has to say."

"I-I'm gonna go," Louis said, pulling Harry up with him as they exited the tense room. Every time Zayn was mad, which didn't happen often, it made everyone scared. This time was no exception. I was one more broken bottle away from pissing my pants.

"Hmm, where do I start..." Zayn chuckled, tapping his chin mockingly.

"Well, you know how you and Liam broke up every two months or so?" He asked, stepping further into my personal space and smirking down at me.

"Y-Yeah?"

"Well before you even dated, we were together. You were his rebound," He snarled, jabbing a strong index finger into the middle of my chest.

I flinched at the touch which only caused his malevolent smirk to grow.

"And when you were on your breaks," He started, now staring at Liams big brown eyes, "He fucked me real good, telling me he missed me."

"N-No?" I whispered, trying to stop Zayn from tormenting me but failing miserably.

"Don' cry, babes," Sarcasm dripping off his tone, "I'm not done yet."

"Zayn that's enough!" Liam yelled, grabbing me and pulling my frozen body into his chest, "You have no right!"

But instead of leaning into his touch, I once again pushed him away from me.

"I-Is it true?" I asked, my wide doe-eyes fighting back tears.

"I-, well, he," Liam stuttered, running a nervous hand through his fluffy quiff.

"And weren't you at least a little curious when Liam wrote about... what was it? A dimple in someone's back?" Zayn asked menacingly, licking his lips and raising his dark eyebrows."Because last I checked, you didn't have one," He paused, staring deeply into Liam's eyes, "And I do."

Before any new claims were made, I ripped off the shining silver ring and tossed it at Liam's feet. He let out a small gasp, followed by a breathy chuckle from Zayn.

Just as I was about to slam the door, I heard Zayn clear his throat, before saying "He doesn't love you, pathetic twink. Never did."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I shook my head quickly at the flashback, I hadn't thought about him nor that night in forever.

Zayn and I never spoke one genuine word to each other after that incident; he was too proud and I was too hurt.

Sure, we went to the same rehearsals, went to the same hotels, and shared the same stage. But at rehearsals we would never be in the recording booth at the same time, our hotel rooms would be on the complete opposite sides and floors, and we would never sit beside each other on stage, ever.

He tried to stay in the band for the fans, but after Louis found out what he said to me, they had a falling out as well.

His and Zayn's friendship completely ended, harsh words and punches were shared. Even some Twitter fights happened.

Louis only got so angry because he was trying to protect me. He never left my side, and after that, we always got rooms that were one door apart. He and Harry usually ended up cuddling with me until I fell asleep back then.

It was then followed by the quick-burning fall-out of his and Harry's as well.

So, not even a year and a half later, Zayn left us all behind, claiming he just wanted to relax.

As for Liam and I, I tried my best to ignore him for weeks after that, taking refuge in Louis and Harry's rooms.

I cried every night for three months until Louis, after a lot of persuasion from Harry, let Liam visit me.

He told me that what Zayn had said was just a sadistic exaggeration.

He confessed that they were in fact together for a few months, but only before he realized his feelings for me. He also said that after our first split, he and Zayn had a few drunk and lonely nights together, and that was all.

All things that he has time and time again said he regretted.

It took me a while to trust him again and I never, to this day, put that ring back onto my finger. Instead, I decided to put it on a chain around my neck.

There have been times where I've debated on wearing it again, but I can never seem to unhook the chain no matter how much I want to.

Maybe next year is what I always tell myself, but for some reason, it never does happen.

Don't get me wrong, I truly, madly, and deeply am in love with Liam. That is all behind us now.

But it's still, for some reason, hard.

I hadn't realized that I was crying until a fat tear dropped onto my neck, trailing all the way down to the collar of 'my' hoodie.

I slumped back into my seat and looked out at the setting sky. I was unaware that it was already past 17:00, Liam was probably worried about me.

I wiped away the tears quickly and started the car once again, driving determinedly down Fenton street, the newly developing tears blurring my vision.

It took me another twenty minutes to make it in front of our building, each one filled with aggressive honks signalling to me that I was driving far too slowly for the fast lane.

Finally, I made it into our reserved spot and exited the Civic, heading straight for our flat.

I stumbled towards the elevator, not paying any mind to the neighbours who waved gently at me.

I waited the usual two minutes and was finally let out on the twenty-second floor.

I leaned my body against the walls leading up to the flat Liam and I called home, knocking down the ornate paintings that were hung in between each door in the hallway.

I was too drained to pick them up, let alone care.

I counted the fancy letters on each door I passed, 206, 208, 210, and finally, 212.

I stumbled forward and, with shaky hands, opened the door that Liam for some reason always left unlocked.

I stepped into the cool air of the sitting room, feeling the hardwood floors creak beneath me.

Liam's head turned around excitedly as he heard me shuffling towards the kitchen, hoping to avoid him as best I could when heading to our bedroom.

His soft cinnamon eyes looked puzzled for a moment, his bushy eyebrows digging deep into his forehead.

"Niall wh-, you're crying..." He deadpanned, his eyes softening to their natural puppy-dog state as he stepped towards me.

"Why are you crying, sweetheart?" Liam asked, his eyes watering at just the sight of me.

"I-I-I, I forgot the pizza," I smiled brokenly through my muffled sobs.

He let out a fond exhale before taking me into his burly arms.

"You don't need to say anything, baby. Shh," He cooed, rubbing my back soothingly.

"Z-Z-Zayn," I sobbed, shuddering with each shallow breath I took.

"O-Oh baby, he can't hurt you anymore. I've got you."

I nodded my head softly as he began to lift me, leading my shaking body towards our bedroom.

He placed me gently against the soft caramel sheets of our room, rolling up the fleece blanket to cover my body.

"Liam, I-, Louis he-, Zayn picture," I cried, more tears spilling out of my eyes as I continued to explain myself.

"Niall, shh, baby," He hummed, sliding his body behind mine and spooning me softly, "Don't say anything."

"I-I have to..." I whispered, turning around to face Liam.

"Ok," He murmured, cupping my cheek with his large hand, "Take your time, babe."

"I-, I know it was a l-l-long time ago, b-but a-am I y-your first pick be-be-because, I don't. I just-," I stopped myself before I could say anything more, my insecurities embarrassing me and painting my tear-stained cheeks a bright shade of red.

Liam smiled apologetically at me, one tear sliding down his tanned cheek as well. He reached down at my thin silver chain, grabbing ahold of the promise ring that hung from it.

He placed a small kiss on it before his eyes met mine once again.

"I meant what I said, Niall," He sighed, leaning his face into mine and placing a closed-mouth kiss upon my quivering lips. "I'll wait. I don't care how long. You can put it back on your finger whenever you are ready. I'll continue to and only wait for you."

"W-What if it takes me two more years?" I asked, looking up into his glassy brown eyes innocently.

"Then I'll wait," He said simply, drawing a small heart against my spine. I shivered gently, goosebumps growing all over my skin in admiration.

"What about ten years?"

"I'll wait forever if I have to," He smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead.

"That's proper cheesy," I hummed, wiping a tear from my face.

He lifted my chin to look directly at his face, peppering small kisses to the tears on my cheeks before wiping all of their trails away. "But it's the truth. From eighteen until forever, right?"

"Yeah, 'course. I love you, Li," I mumbled into the crook of his neck, scooting in closer to place my cheek against his delicately beating heart.

"Never as much as I do," Liam sighed, bringing the hand that wasn't wrapped around my waist into my hair, massaging my scalp softly.

"Never?" I asked, my last tears escaping my heavy eyes and a small smile curling at my lips.

"Never."


	9. Cherry Cola in a Wine Glass

I said my final goodbyes to Niall before slamming the door; the echo masking his soon-awaiting footsteps that blared down the hallway.

I let out a dejected grunt; my bandaged hands holding my face. I leaned my forehead against the door softly before closing my eyes tightly.

Why did I have to be such an idiot?

I replayed the face of horror Niall wore as I reopened my wounds. I saw his eyes burn from tears again. I watched his regretful expression as he let his fingers slide down my naked chest.

I looked down at my ribs once more, almost feeling his shaky hands against the tight skin. I shook my head as I made my way towards a dark red crewneck I had thrown by the foot of my bed a couple of days ago; lifting it up and throwing it over my frail torso.

The bright blue and yellow pyjama trousers looked rather gaudy paired with the dark red crewneck, but I wasn't going on the cover of Vogue Magazine, so I decided to not dwell on that subject any further.

I flopped my body onto the warm fabric of the bed, hissing as my wounded arms bounced from the recoil. Carefully, I reached out in front of me and shut the blinds, hoping that I could take a nap.

The light began to drain out and I was left in complete darkness; a satisfied smile poking through my lips.

With my lighting arrangement fixed, I began to make a nest; moving pillows behind my head, cuddled into my back, and of course, in between my thighs. I pulled the silky periwinkle blanket over my body and nuzzled into the bed. I tucked the blanket in even further, hiding my head under the blue material.

I began to trace small patterns against the rough material of the bandages before ultimately pulling my sleeves up to cover my palms.

I felt the darkness begin to hug my body, holding me closer than anyone has ever before. I felt the all-familiar fear fill in my chest; uncertainty building in my gut. And for me, this was comfort.

As my mind began to numb and my eyelids began to weigh down, thoughts poured in slower and slower. Some calm, some sad, and some in between. Though, most of them were directed towards Niall.

I began to pick at the skin around my nails as worry fogged my memory.

How could I have been so stupid?

How could I have let myself go that far?

What if I had really died?

I brought my knees up to my chest and hugged them, letting more and more questions fill the space between my eyes.

I was thankful that Niall had gone to see me this morning, even though I didn't show it. I was never good at that aspect of relationships. The intimacy, the apologizing, the forgiving, the praise. Even after all this time with Niall, it was still hard.

But for some reason, it never was difficult with Harry. It was always so easy with him. Tranquil, loving, safe. Harry was a tender and nurturing soul, and it complimented my broken one perfectly. All in all, we were soulmates.

I jumped myself out of that train of thought before I continued too far; thinking of Hary always came at a price. I didn't feel like I should head down that path, at least not today.

Negligible pricks of blood emerged from the skin around my cuticles, warning me to stop, so I switched fingers.

And as more droplets of blood appeared, a haunting question scratched her way to the surface.

What are you going to do with the blood-stained bathroom?

I let out a deep guttural sigh. Images of the bloody tile began to pop up in my brain, overlapping each other at an alarming rate.

I slowly began to crawl out of my den, my arm muscles aching from the movement.

I knew I should have gone to a hospital but I couldn't. It was the second home of my depressing childhood; the place my mother spent more than half of her time; the place where she took her final breaths.

I don't know what I would do if I were to go to one again, which is why I'm glad I won't have to think about that for a very long time; not unless Niall were to leave me too.

Niall had always been our 'nurse'. Even though Liam was known as the sensible one, and Harry was usually called the 'mother', Niall tended to take care of us in that way; and he was proper good at it as well. After our usually playful fights, Niall would barge in with his first-aid kit and fix us all up. It was rather adorable, to say the least. I think he learned how when his brother and he started skateboarding, but I'm not too sure.

My bare feet tickled themselves against the soft beige carpet of the floor.

I hesitantly began to walk towards the bathroom, my eyes growing more and more evasive with each step.

I grabbed ahold of the doorknob tightly, my knuckles popping out as I began to twist it.

A sense of disgust pooled in my gut as my eyes met the blood-stained floor. I gagged as the smell of blood, alcohol, and vomit met my nose. The putrid scent was almost enough to have me throw up a second time (though I assume I didn't throw up again due to the fact that I didn't eat anything. Yeah, that's why).

I stepped into the half-dry floor, feeling the disgustingly red and brown liquid cling to my feet.

I felt a tug at my heart as my eyes scanned the room; Niall saw this as well, but instead, it was with me lying right in the midst of it.

"Fuck," I whispered, shaking my head as I crouched down under the sink, looking for cleaning supplies.

I got my hands on a purple washcloth and, for some odd reason, dish soap. I raised my eyebrows in suspicion before deciding that it would suffice.

I wet the purple towel before rolling up my ducky trousers to rest above my knees. I knelt down and poured a generous amount of the cleaning fluid over the patch of floor in front of me.

Slowly but surely, I began to wash myself out of the floor. I scrubbed the pain I caused to my best mate and me out of each crevice between tiles. I watched as that idiotic mistake begin to disappear.

I stood myself up once more, my eyes scanning the room like a hawk, checking for any splotches of blood that remained. 

Just as I crouched down to get the last stain out from the bottom side of the tub, I heard a loud knock on the door. I jumped quickly, hitting my head against the side of the porcelain bath.

"Agh!" I screamed, rubbing my bruising forehead soothingly.

I stalked over to the bathroom door and slammed it shut, my irritation levels rising the more my head started ringing.

"Niall?" I called, furiously unravelling my duck-patterned trousers.

"Sorry to disappoint, love," A female voice chuckled. Kat?

"Kat what are you doing here?" I asked, not realizing how harsh my tone was. I wiped the sweat off my forehead and walked out of the bathroom, heading towards the door.

"Ouch, I thought we were friends!" She replied, a teasing sob following it.

"I don't know if right now's a good time," I looked down at my wrists and saw a couple of reddish-pink stains scattered against my once stark white bandages. I quickly covered them up with my sleeves again

"Oi, lad!" Kat whined, jiggling the doorknob to see if I had it opened, "I'm bored and all my friends are out at work!"

"Wow, so 'm last choice," I teased, rolling my eyes mockingly (my idiot-ass not realizing that she couldn't see me through the door).

"That's- well- not intentionally! Please can you hang out with me?"

"I don' wanna leave my room," I lied, scratching the back of my neck.

"Then I'll order us food! I'll pay! C'mon, open up!" Her pert voice seemed to lose its charming quality the more I stalled, her patience running dangerously low. I finally decided to open up, seeing as though her vigorous stubborn streak wouldn't back down.

I unhooked the door chain, wincing at the hair-raising metal screech of the small ball against its fastener.

"Kat!" I said, dragging the 'a' in a sarcastic manner, "Glad you came."

A satirical smirk took over her black-painted lips as I dramatically manoeuvred my arms to direct her inside.

"Better stay nice to me, Mr. Tomlinson. I might have to cut off your hot water otherwise," She quipped, punching my shoulder playfully.

I gasped, widening my eyes dramatically, "You wouldn't dare!"

"If you don't test me, you won't have to find out," She winked, inviting herself onto the couch.

"I left my copy of the Rocky Horror Picture Show in here if you are in the mood for a movie," She said, nonchalance dripping out of her tone as she typed something into her phone.

"Nah, no musicals," I sighed, plopping down beside her.

"On this floor, everyone's got a copy of Toy Story. But since you aren't four I don't think you'll enjoy that, huh?" She smiled, tucking her phone into the kangaroo pocket of the oversized plum hoodie she wore.

I nodded curtly, remembering how Liam makes Niall and I have a Toy Story marathon every year.

"Oh! If you're into romance movies someone left their copy of The Noteb-"

"Just go get the bloody food, Kat," I snapped, crossing my arms tightly.

"Sorry," She said, hanging her head a bit lower than usual. She began twiddling with her fingers nervously with the frayed hems of her sleeves, "Pizza or?"

I felt a pool of guilt build in my gut and I gave her a small smile, "Burger King, please. I'll have what you're having and a small coke; make it cherry."

"Oh please, I'm getting a large, mate," She smiled, stepping up from the couch and walking over to the corded telephone.

She pulled the creme coloured device to her ear and pressed a couple of buttons. She began to sway and almost dance as she waited for the other line to pick up; Harry used to do that.

"Ritchie?" She asked, her soft voice pulling me out of my creepy stare.

"Hey bro... I'd like two Whoppers, a side of chips, and two large cherry colas... Yeah just with this guy... 28 B... Ok, thanks... See ya in ten!"

"On its way?" I asked, pretending that I hadn't been intently listening the entire time.

"Yeah, Tommo," She asserted, reclaiming her position on the couch.

I scooched over a tad and she grabbed the pillow that was behind me, tugging it into her chest, "So... we never decided on that movie."

"Oh, uhm... I saw there was the Grinch movie," I added, nudging her side gently, "Never too early for a Christmas movie."

"I wholeheartedly agree," She smiled, her eyes crinkling slightly, "Now put it in good sir!"

"As you wish, your highness," I joked, stepping up and reaching down at the pile of movies I left on the coffee table.

I picked up the mint copy of 'How The Grinch Stole Christmas' and discarded the plastic seal, tossing it towards the bin (and missing it completely).

"Ha! You're rubbish!" She laughed, covering her face with the pillow.

"Oi, leave me alone!" I said, turning around to hide the small smile on my face.

"Yeah, yeah. Now come on; I came here for the Grinch, not our lovely conversations!" She teased, throwing the pillow at the back of my head.

"Ouf," I grunted, grabbing the pillow and whipping it back at her.

"I reckon you begged me to hang out," I scoffed, inserting the VHS into the VCR.

"I don't remember that," She said through a smile, twiddling with the fringe of the pillow.

As I sat back down, silence overtook the room; the only sounds came from the starting screen of the television. And for once, the silence wasn't awkward; you could even say it was comfortable silence (which is a rarity when it comes to me). Even though I have only known Kat since the day she greeted us when Niall and I were high, I felt like I was really going to like her. I smiled at the thought, feeling completely calm in her presence.

"Haven't watched this in ages," She said, hugging the pillow tighter into her chest.

"I wish I could say the same," I chuckled, finally clicking the play button.

"What do you mean? I love this movie!" She said, her defensive tone causing me to laugh a little more.

"You wouldn't like it if your best mate made you watch it every Holiday! I think I know every line in the movie" I shook my head with a goofy grin on my face, "Nialler is such a lovely twat!"

"Speaking of Niall," She said, her tone seeming to drop a bit, "I saw him running out with stained pants an-"

"Kat, not now," I warned, turning up the volume, "Maybe 'll tell you some other time."

"You're ok though... right?" She asked, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder.

I flinched at the touch at first but calmed down as she circled soft patterns against my clothed collar bone.

"Yeah, Kat, 'll be alright," I hummed, placing my hand onto her wrist and squeezing it reassuringly.

"Good," She stated, removing her hand, "Now come 'ere n' give me a cuddle!"

"What?" I asked, a confused yet giddy expression growing on my face.

She tossed the hugged-out pillow to the floor and patted her lap with both hands.

"Fuck it, we're cuddling!" I chuckled, letting my head fall onto her lap. I curled my legs into my chest and let her shift under the new weight.

"This alright, love?" I asked, involuntarily nuzzling into the soft fabric of her matching plum sweats.

"Yeah," She said, humming as the instrumental of 'Where Are You Christmas' began to play.

I brought my sweater-pawed hands and cuddled them into my chest, smiling as the characters started to appear 'in their Christmas' bests' (which I made sure to quote for Kat).

Her hand then moved to rest on my shoulder, ok.

"Your hair is really pretty," She whispered, trying not to disturb my focus from the telly.

"Thank you, wanker," I said, letting out a satirical exhale.

"C-can I touch it?" She asked, the tips of her fingers ghosting the top of my head.

"...Sure."

Her fingers experimentally brushed from the nape of my neck until the crown. She continued that motion until all of my back hairs were sticking out in every direction.

"It's very soft," She complimented, now brushing the front hairs back.

"Thank the bisexual bastard that is Niall's boyfriend. Better known as Liam though," I chuckled, placing my hand on her knee and giving it a small squeeze.

"And why's that?" She said, her Irish accent sounding much prettier than Niall's.

"He watched one Head and Shoulders commercial and bought like a hundred bottles; Niall gifted me fifty of them my last birthday," I started, flipping on my back as I began talking to her, "Liam's 'pass' is Sofia Vergara, not like he'd have a chance with her!"

"Yeah, she is rather beautiful... and talented if you know what I mean," She giggled, bringing her hand back into my hair.

"More of an ass guy myself," I said truthfully, an image of a small yet perky butt belonging to the famous Mr. Styles forming in my mind.

"Yeah, I prefer bo-"

But before she could finish her sentence, a hard knock sounded at the door.

"Food!" She cheered, pushing me off of her quickly.

"Ow!" I groaned, my head being hit with the phone that fell out of her pocket.

My head can't seem to catch a break these days.

"Brother! I love you, I love you, I love you!" She said, embracing the tall lad who had two drinks and a bag from Burger King in his hands.

"Ritchie, this is Louis. Louis this is Ritchie, my brother!" She said cheerfully, ripping the delicious smelling bag from his hands.

"Hey, man," Ritchie said, awkwardness radiating off of him.

"Hey! Thanks for the food, lad," I smiled, grabbing the tray of drinks from his hand.

"Yeah, no problem," He started, his deep Irish accent sounding slow and soothing, "Gotta get back do work, Kit-Kat. Later!" He hollered, closing the door behind him.

"Don't say i-"

"Kit-Kat?!" I exclaimed, not even trying to hold my bark of a laugh.

"Shut up!" She pouted, throwing a single fry at my face, "That's the only one you'll get!"

"I don't even like chips anyway!" I sassed, unwrapping my warm burger.

We sat on opposite sides of the coffee table cross-legged, too focused on our food to care about the movie.

I took small bird-like bites, hoping that Kat wouldn't notice. But, she did.

"Is it gross or something? Ritz works at Burger King. I'll report him for pranks and laughs," She said, her tone sounding too serious to be a joke.

"Ritz?" I laughed "Wait- No! Don't do that, Kit-Kat!"

I began to take larger bites from my burger in an attempt to stop her from getting 'Ritz' fired (it worked).

"Hey!" She said, turning her focus to the mini-fridge to the left of her, "Look at those fancy cups!"

"I see them," I droned, taking another bite from my Whopper.

"Haha! Not funny... but we should use them!" She exclaimed, already standing up and grabbing two for us.

She began to pour half of her drink into the wine glass, filling it to the brim.

"Go on, this'll be fun. I feel posh; snobby," She chuckled, taking a careful sip from the glass.

I complied and poured my untouched drink into the fancy glass, watching as a few drops met with the carpet.

"Cherry cola in a wine glass," I toasted, lifting my glass into the air.

"Cherry cola in a wine glass," She repeated, clinking her glass into mine.

We continued talking until the movie ended; and even after the sun began to set. I learned that her mother is a teacher from Uganda and that her father is a miner from the Dominican Republic. Though, she was born in Ireland and lived there until she was 22. She told me that this year she decided to transfer to the University of London and take a job at her dad's hotel for extra cash. On the weekends she usually practiced with her band called 'Absolute Zero' because they were 'the coolest band ever' and 'absolute zero' is the coldest temperature (to which I gave her a smack in the arm and a rude 'dork' remark). I even got told stories about her two pet rabbits. The girl was named Puddles and the boy was named Pickles.

"You're a strange lass," I said, drinking the final sip from my wine glass.

"That I am, Tomlinson," She chuckled, scooping up some ketchup with her fingers.

She began to lick the sauce, causing me to gag in disgust.

"What the fuck are you doin'?" I asked, my face contorting grossly.

"Ketchup. Is, Yummy," She stated coldly, giving me a proper death glare.

"Woah there, tiger," I said, backing my hands up in defence, "Don't sh-"

My phone dinged before I could send her one of my famous Sass-Masta lines.

"I'll go put the garbage away and grab it, yeah?" She asked, standing up quickly.

I handed her my trash and un-ravelled the muffin wrapper and gave it to her.

I smiled as I thought of Niall planning our day together; I felt bad, but I couldn't face him after that. It would have been much too degrading. He'd look at me with his pitiful eyes and give me hugs every ten minutes; I needed a change.

I took a large bite, feeling proud of myself with how much I've eaten tonight. I surprisingly finished the muffin in a few seconds, leaving not a single crumb.

"You know what, I'm having fun with you, just leave my phone on the night table," I started, letting out a small cough, "It's probably just Niall being an overprotective father."

She chuckled fondly, presumably at her memory of Niall before denying my statement.

"No, it says Harry Styles... That's the 'Signs but Times' guy, right?

"Oh my god, I forgot you haven't a clue who we are."

"Well," She said, dragging out each of the syllables, "Can I open it? He sent three more."

My mind went blank.

"W-What?" I croaked, my heart picking up speed. My eyes widened as she took a step closer.

I couldn't deal with this. I needed to ignore it; pretend it never happened. I needed it all to go away. I couldn't deal with Harry again, at least not after what he did.

"Four," She said, sitting down beside me awkwardly.

Everything went from zero to one hundred in an instant.

It felt like my heart was beating out of my chest. I grasped at it tightly, hoping that it would calm it down, it didn't. It felt as if a wild animal was stuck in my chest, trying its best to claw to the surface. A searing pain emerged from each centimetre of my skin, the burn feeling so terrible that I began to shake.

My entire body was on overdrive and I couldn't control it.

Each breath I took got shallower and shallower, almost to the point where breathing became detrimental. I was breathing so fast and so shallow that it felt as though I wasn't breathing at all.

I could almost hear Katana's voice in the distance, but I wasn't too sure. Everything felt so far away and I hated it. The only thing I could hear for certain was "Harry"; it repeated over and over like a mantra.

I felt her hands wrap around my chest, squeezing me into her tightly. Soothing circles began to pull me back into reality, her voice getting closer and closer.

"W..W-What's happ-p-ening, I-I ."

"Sh, Louis. It's a panic attack, you'll be ok," She whispered, tightening her grip around my waist.

I tried to nod my head in agreement but my body felt frozen.

She continued to whisper calming things into my ear, the soft vibrations making me feel safer; her tight hold keeping me grounded and controlled. But just as I thought the storm was over, I heard another ding.

"Fuck!" I wailed, my stomach feeling as if it were being tied in knots.

One of her hands moved away from my back and reached out to what I assumed to be my phone, turning it on silent.

I felt the food that I had eaten earlier begin to scream in my stomach as each sharp pain surged through my body. Everything felt like it was ending, almost as if my whole body was collapsing on itself.

But what scared me the most was how my breathing almost got worse.

She told me to take deep breaths, she whispered it over and over again in my ear, but I couldn't. The air around me felt as if it were polluted with cigarette smoke; a deep breath would be dangerous rather than healing.

My eyes began to burn as imaginary dings filled my ears, the sound overwhelming each and every one of my senses.

"Make it stop," I whimpered, my hands clinging and clawing at her back for support.

I felt a few tears slip out of my eyes and soak through her hoodie, causing her to let out a pitiful sigh.

"Louis, please don't cry," She whispered, squeezing me impossibly closer to her.

She continued murmuring soothing things into my ear; the vibration from her throat onto my shoulder pulled me back to a state of control.

My breath began to get slower, each inhale growing deeper and deeper until they were no longer laborious.

"Louis?" She said, resuming the rubbing of my back.

"Mh," I answered, my already weak voice getting muffled by her shoulder.

"You're going to be ok," She stated, running her hands through my hair gently.

I hummed in response, my entire body feeling too weak under hers to say anything else.

We stayed like that for what felt like hours, her hands continuing to physically calm me down.

"You feeling any better?" She asked, grabbing my face from her shoulder to have it look at hers.

Through a broken nod, I attempted a smile. I felt my tear stains crack as my lips upturned, causing me to let out a defeated sigh.

"This is so embarrassing," I whined, tucking my face back into her shoulder.

"D-Don't worry about it, Tommo," She started, taking a long pause to gulp down some sort of emotion, "I'm used to it."

I took a minute to contemplate her voice, no emotion coming to mind. I didn't know whether I should pry, but it never hurts to ask.

"Oh, so how did ya' kn-know how to like do that?" I questioned, leaning further into her comforting touch.

She hesitated slightly, an almost inaudible sob escaping her lips.

"Kat?" I asked, sitting up to look her in the eyes.

"My.. uh... my s-sister," She started, shaking her head nervously.

"Kat, what's wrong?"

"My sister, she uh, she used to have panic attacks before she... well, before she killed herself," She whispered, tears welling up in her dark eyes.

"Oh, darling," I cried, wrapping her up into a tight hug, alike to the one we shared just minutes before.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered, rubbing her back amicably.

"I'm sorry too."

We sat in another comfortable silence, none of us being brave enough to break the silence.

She then reached into her pocket and pulled out my phone, placing it into my trembling hands.

"You don't have to tell me what happened, but if he hurt you that bad then I suggest you block him," She said, her words falling out brokenly.

I shook my head slightly, smiling at her softness, "Then I will tell you."

I started slow, giving her a backstory of our band and the friendships; allowing her to absorb the information better. Then, I began to flip through all of the important Larry Stylinson pages of my memory. I told her all about the good, the bad, and the ugly; the beginning, the middle, and the end.

"You think he's still with that chick?"

"I have no idea; I hope not," I whispered the last part, a small frown growing on my face.

I let my eyes look down at my phone.

\---------------------------------  
5 Private Messages   
From: Harry Styles...

Unlock to see sensitive notification.  
\---------------------------------  
"You aren't obligated to, you know?" She said, giving me a weak smile.

"I know," I whispered, looking down at my sleeve covered hands, "But I think I have to."

"We can do this," She smiled, wrapping her arms around my back sweetly.

"Ok," I said, unlocking my phone with my favourite numbers: 28.69.

I shut my eyes tightly, not ready to face the words that filled my screen.

"Want me to read it for you?" She asked, lightly taking my phone into her hands.

"Please," I whispered, pushing myself closer into her embrace.

"Ok," She said, bringing the screen closer to her eyes.

She cleared her throat quietly before speaking.

"So the first text from a few days ago says: 'I completely forgot about the Larimar! It's nice to hear from you L-Lou x. How've you been?'."

I chuckled nervously at her attempt at his accent, but if the context was better I would've cracked a smile.

"Then what?" I asked, yawning slightly as I looked at the almost pitch-black sky.

"Uhm, he wrote: 'turns out im goinf to be in Lonsdom for awhile.' Yep, g-o-i-n-f and L-O-N-S-D-O-M," She chuckled, emphasizing his horrid typos, "And the next three are him typing a correction of goinf to going; then Lonsdom to Lendon, and finally London."

"Wait, he's here? H-He's in London?" I asked, my nerves getting the best of me.

"I think I 'm going to throw up," I complained, my face getting paler with each second that passed. (Presumably, because the word "Lou" bounced around my head so many times that it made me dizzy).

"Louis, we can leave him on opened it's ok-"

"Kat, give me the phone," I sighed, making grabby hands at her.

"I don't think that's the best thing for you right no-"

But before she could say any more, I spun around and snatched the phone out of her hand.

"Hey! I was reading that!" She rolled her eyes at me.

"Hey! I don't care!" I said, trying my best to break through our unsure air.

"Rude! And to think I was being nice to you! Never again!" She huffed, crossing her arms on her chest.

"Thank you for that by the way," I replied, feeling a bit guilty for sassing her so carelessly.

"Don't mention it, Tommo," She started, a devilish smirk growing on her face.

"What?" I asked skeptically, my eyebrows knitting together.

"I want to see this guy who broke your pretty little heart!" She exclaimed, pulling out her phone and typing manically into Google, "Is he a babe?"

"I mean I gues-"

"LORD HAVE MERCY, I'm 'bout to BUST!" She screamed, throwing her phone across the room (luckily it had landed on the pillow that she threw earlier).

"You are more dramatic than Niall," I chuckled, covering my bloodshot eyes to mask my amused expression.

"I'm just telling the truth," She giggled, leaning her head against my shoulder.

"But between you and me, he is definitely a bottom," She chuckled, "Those supermodel girls he is pictured with would never be caught dead wearing strap-ons for him."

I didn't even try to hide my smile, nor my cackle. She even joined in.

"But back to the messages... Will you respond?"

I took a second to breathe, contemplating the many ways this could turn out.

But before I staked my decision, Katana began to go on one of her quirky tangents.

"You know, I kind of think he might still like you... Maybe. I know that I always double and even triple texted my ex-girlfriends."

"Girlfriends?" I asked, my cheeks flushing to pale pink.

"Ugh, men. Oh my God, I thought it was obvious by now; I'm a lesbian!"

Oh.

"Yeah! I knew that!" Lies.

"Well anyway, I think he is also drunk! I mean the intense spelling errors, come on," She deadpanned, rolling her eyes carelessly

"He might just be rushing or whatev-"

"Drunk and missing you!" She exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with hope.

"Kat, he is no-"

"Is too."

"Is not."

"Is."

"Not."

"Is!" She screamed, getting a muffled complaint from the people who rented above me.

She giggled softly before snatching my phone.

"What are you doing?" I whisper-screamed, hitting her shoulder lightly.

"Asking... if... he... is... drunk," She answered as she typed, "Ok, now we wait for a response."

I looked down at the screen and sure enough, the three little dots popped up, followed by a typo-ridden text.

H: no om nit  
H: *im  
H: *not

"What did I tell ya?" She sassed, wiggling her eyebrows lightly.

"That proves nothing," I scoffed, typing in a quick response.

L: Jesus, Harry, go to sleep

H: but im at a club i cabtr sleoop here

L:So u r drunk, liar.

H:you shoukd cum here

"Louis... Ritchie told me that's how gay guys flirt!" She squealed, shaking her hands in excitement.

"That could just be another typo," I said, but even I had a hard time believing it.

"Hm, yeah right, Mr. Insatiable!"

"Shut up Kat, he has that girlfriend, remember?" I retorted, rolling my eyes lightly.

"Oh, but no gal could be as pretty as you," She cooed mockingly, grabbing at the skin of my cheek.

"Ugh, get off of me," I whined slapping her hand off of me.

"Anyways, ask him what club he is at!" She said, hugging her arm around me tighter, "I bet it's that gay one, Circa Soho. It's quite small; he wouldn't get recognized as much. But there's also that one near Chinatown."

"Trust me, he only knows Circa Soho. Us boys used to go there all the time."

"Well, what are we waiting for, let's go pick him up."

I twiddled with my thumbs for a moment, wondering what he might look like now; if his voice changed at all; or if he would greet me with one of his famous frog-like smiles.

I felt another buzz from my phone and looked down:

H: louehhh i misss you

L: I stopped texting u for 2 minutes!

H: pleaze i wamt ro see ypu please

"K-Kat can you please go pick him up... I don't think I'm ready for this shit," I whispered, letting out a deep breath that I didn't know I was holding onto.

She smiled sweetly at me, patting my back for reassurance, "Of course, love."

I smiled gratefully at her, embracing her quickly.

"But you know the only way I'll be able to shut him up is if I coax him with you."

"What do you mean?" I asked, a face of comical confusion washing over me.

"Please for the love of God tell him that you'll see him tomorrow... for a friendship date."

I hesitated a minute, the thought of seeing him feeling forgoing and uncertain.

"I don't know," I said, covering my face in my hands, "I'll think about it."

"Sounds like a plan," She smiled, giving me one last pat on the back, "Alright, 'm off to go take care of drunky!"

"Ok. Thank you, Kat. Seriously."

"Anytime, Tommo," She assured, waving a small peace sign before exiting my flat.

I let out a grad sigh, my lungs inflating like large balloons.

I unrolled up my sweater paws, letting my bandaged arms breathe a little; wondering if Kat noticed them.

I let myself believe that she didn't and scurried over to my bed, flopping down lazily.

I remade my periwinkle nest and cuddled myself into the softest pillow. I dug my face into it and exhaled softly.

I let my thoughts begin to trail further and further away, the sounds of Kat's car outside numbed my worry.

And although the world felt uncertain, I could have sworn that the earth began to move slower and slower, rocking me to sleep.


	10. Gasoline Lips

My eyes flickered open but my mind was still drifting elsewhere.

The room was billowing with a thin layer of smoke, coming from somewhere that I couldn't place. I pulled my head forward and watched as sunshine poured through the window. The rays were rather prominent; so much so that I could trace the smoke with my eyes.

I smiled groggily at the sight before me, making sure to memorize the feeling of heat that the rays brought to the skin of my lips and nose.

As I began to gain more consciousness, my ears started to pick up sounds I hadn't heard before. I closed my lilac-lidded eyes once more and focused on what was being said:

"Whipped cream?" A playful Irish accent asked... was it, Niall?

"Right here!" A docile female voice answered, her Irish accent peaking out at the last word... Kat!

"I meant for the pancake! Not my face, idiot!" He cried, followed by the famous laugh that only came from Niall.

"Your fault you didn't specify," Kat chuckled, accompanied by some more shuffling in what I assumed to be the kitchen.

The friendly bickering continued for a bit longer, both of them being too quick on their feet to end the interaction. The mix of Niall's playful personality and Kat's outgoing aura (which I realized is why she was so good at customer service) was an amazing, dare I say perfect, match-up.

An awkward silence then took over the room, even my breathing quieted down.

"N-Niall?" Katana asked carefully after clearing her throat.

"What's up?"

"Is Louis... ok?"

Shit.

Niall began to stutter out some odd excuses for words until finally, he made sense of the question.

"Well... He just... It's not my place," He tried to reason, though his disgruntled tone made me confused.

"I get that, but... He had a-a panic attack last night because of that Harry guy," She hesitated, her feet making loud shuffles through the kitchen. Was she pacing?

"H-He did?" Niall asked, fear lacing his voice, "That's happened at least 3 times this week I'm sure of it."

"Really?" She worried, I could practically see the saddened pout on her lips, "Did Harry tell you anything else when I dropped him off at your flat?"

What the fuck? He is staying with Niall?

"No, not that I know of. Liam was the one who tucked him in. I was too exhausted to deal with that drunken bastard."

"Bastard is right," She replied, "Sorry for taking him to yours's by the way. I didn't want him at the hotel because you know... Louis. And he insisted on seeing you guys so-,"

"Hush, Kattie-Wattie," He chuckled, "I just wish Harry hadn't come at all."

"Me too."

They began to talk in an ever more hushed tone and I couldn't seem to pick up any word other than "Harry said..." and then Niall's loud laugh.

"You think breakfast is done now?"

"I mean, I thought they were done five minutes ago... but you insisted they be burnt," Niall scoffed amicably.

"Excuse you!" Kat exclaimed, "You left me in charge of the pancakes so it's just as much your fault!"

"Well I'm glad that's the only thing I let you take care of, otherwise you would've found a way to burn the apple juice as well!"

"Apple juice can't even be burnt!" She whined, her feet stomping out of the kitchen.

"Hey, babe!" A deep voice sounded from beside me.

"Ahh!" I screeched, my body flipping over on instinct, forcing me off of the bed. I landed on top of what I assumed to be Niall's socked feet due to the infamous Irish stench that mercilessly filled my nostrils.

I turned myself around to find a chuckling Liam lying to the right of my bed. I seriously had no idea he was there the entire time.

"I hate you," I mumbled, rubbing my eyes tiredly as I sat upright.

"Aw, love you more," Liam teased, hopping off of the bed and lifting me into the air in one quick motion.

"Put me down!" I screamed, flailing my arms everywhere. I hissed and grunted at the pain that shot through my wrists, but I just wanted to be put down.

After a few more shriek-filled minutes, he finally dropped me down onto the velvety blue couch, wrapping a large denim jacket around my shoulders.

"Now eat up," Kat hummed, sliding the plate onto the coffee table in front of me.

"Kat, I mean this in the rudest way possible, but even I am a better cook than you," I smiled, but nonetheless, I grabbed the provided fork and dug into one of the many mango chunks that were scattered across my almost completely burnt pancake.

"You two are bullies!" She yelled, covering her makeup-less face into her hands, "Enough with the slander of my pancake! It has feelings too, you know?"

I noticed she had a thin layer of freckles all across her face, as well as a few vitiligo patches and splatters across her forehead and nose. I guess she used makeup to cover them up, but I proper liked them. They made her look even more fetching.

I continued to eat as Liam and Niall had a tickle fight on my bed, Kat only watched them with a fond smile.

"They always this sugary-sweet?" She asked, plopping down beside me and stealing a strawberry off of my plate.

"Yeah, makes me want to throw up," I joked, taking the first bite of my pancake, "This pancake does too."

"Leave my cooking alone!" She shouted, a hysterical giggle slipping out of her lips, "It's not that bad!"

"Whatever you say."

I continued to eat in silence, allowing Kat to play with my hair once more until Niall and Liam squeezed their way onto each of our laps; Liam on Kat, Niall on me.

"I'm glad we are all getting along, but you are crushing my thigh, fatty," I scoffed, trying to mask a small laugh as Niall began to pull funny faces at me.

"You know, it's not nice to fat-shame," Niall commented, sliding his arms around my neck, "And I'm not even that heavy!"

"Liam please get your man," I sighed, leaning as far as I could away from Niall who began to peck my cheeks sloppily.

"You guys are much more fun than my other friends," Kat sighed, rolling up Liam's sleeve to check out his many tattoos.

Liam began to explain all of them to her and she just nodded politely. Both of them spoke about their tattoos - or the tattoos they wanted to get. My lips curved softly as I watched them become lost in the depths of each other's minds.

"I'm scared she is going to take my Liam away from me," Niall joked as the cuddled-up pair talked and giggled even more.

"Don't worry, Nialler," I chuckled, lifting him up as I stood from my place on the couch, "She is a big-fat-lesbo."

"I wouldn't have guessed," Niall hummed, wrapping himself around me like a koala as I walked us and my empty plate into the kitchen.

"She and Lima are definitely going to drool over Sofia Vergara in a few minutes," I joked, placing Niall on the counter.

"A hundred percent," He exaggerated, grabbing the plate from my hands and running it under the hot water. He didn't want me to get my bandages wet.

We continued to talk about pointless things as I finished drinking my apple juice and Niall washed the leftover grub from my plate.

But soon, his face began to contort, a nervous smile replacing his once laughing mouth.

"Niall? Y'alright, mate?" I asked, turning my full attention to him. He began to play with the hem of his duck-patterned t-shirt, his other hand nervously ripping at the small hole in his blue jeans.

"I... well... Kat told me what you said last night," He sighed, staring deeply into my eyes, "Are you actually thinking about seeing Harry or did you just say that to say it. I think it's a good idea. He might even - I don't know. Maybe it's a bad idea. You're free this weekend... is that too soon? I don't know how long Harry is staying in London. I mean I know it's hard for you, but Li and I - and even Kat - think it would be good for you and I don't know it's just he might make you happy I don't know-"

"Niall, calm down. You're rambling," I soothed, walking over to place my hand upon his knee, "I... I think I have to, right?"

"Well, Katana said she told Harry that he'd get to hang out with you. Like it was seriously the only thing that got him out of the club and back to our plac-"

"So he is staying with you?" I quizzed, my eyebrows furrowing slightly. I needed to know if he was going to lie to me or not.

"Well... I mean, n-yes. I swear I didn't agree to it. He just showed up with Katana at our door with a drunken smile on his face!" Niall exclaimed apologetically, "I wish he didn't come at all."

"Me too... well... yeah. Me too," I sighed, wiping the apple juice off of my scruff-encased lips, "Wanna go back to the lovebirds?"

"Yeah! Maybe we can all go to the pool!" Niall smiled, hopping off of the counter and jumping onto me once again. He was a huge fan of being carried if you couldn't already tell.

When we returned to the sitting room, we were met with Liam and Kat still attentively talking about their inked-up bodies - except now, Liam wasn't cuddled on her lap, to the felicity of Niall.

Albeit, when I made a loud and exaggerated cough, they finally acknowledged our presence and patted us onto the couch.

"Hey, Lou-Louis," Liam fumbled as Niall and I both hopped onto one of his knees, "When do you want me to drive you to see H?"

What-? Who-? He-? What the fuck?

"H as in... H-Ha-Harry?" I asked, my eyes growing wider than a ping-pong ball, "What the hell are you talking about?"

Liam turned me around to face him, his eyebrows were scrunched together and his forehead was thoroughly creased. He was properly confused, and it seemed as though he had no clue what he had done wrong.

"Uh, yeah. Who else? He told me that you promised to see him tomorrow, today, and then I tucked him in and he passed out," Liam stated, his voice way too casual for my liking.

"I never said anything of the sort!" I shouted, letting out a dramatized huff of a breath. I mentally face-palmed myself for sounding like a posh character straight out of a Shakespearean tragedy - but maybe that was just a foreshadow on what is to come.

"I promised Harry that Louis would 'think' about it! What the hell, Liam?" Kat clamoured, her eyes wide with vexation.

"What the hell were you thinking, Liam?" Niall scolded, "I leave you with one thing to do! One thing! Damn, bloody leprechauns!"

"I didn't know!" Liam pouted after getting a few slaps to the bicep from Niall. I was still too frozen and shocked to even begin to react physically.

"Just... why didn't you tell us this earlier?" Niall posed, the aggression in his voice lessening significantly.

"I thought he was finally good to see him," Liam pouted, his lips forming a small frown.

Niall shook his head, "Did you not see his fucking wrists, Li-"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?!" I defended, sitting up from Liam's lap and crossing my arms tightly.

"I didn't mean- It's just- I-"

"Bullocks, Niall," I scoffed, "You just think I'm some fucked-up basket case, is that it?"

"No, I don't..." Niall whispered, shaking his head in his hands, "You damn-well know that!"

The rage I felt in my fists began to subside and I was only left with a feeling of regret.

Did I really come across as this weak?

I let out a deep sigh and more thoughts began to buzz through my brain. I scanned the room, in search of something to hold onto; maybe a smile from Kat, the soft morning light, or the books that were stacked on my nightstand - but all I found were dumb stares from the guilty trio in front of me. They all had a familiar look of empathy mixed with a hesitant nervousness.

I thought for a minute at the sight before me. None of them even dared to move a muscle. Almost as if they believed that the plane between our souls was flooded with eggshells, and they were trying not to step and crack a single one. They were all so soft, and that did not sit right with me.

I used to be Louis Tomlinson, the strong Doncaster lad who wore his heart on his sleeve and commanded the attention of anyone who was in the room with him. I used to exude confidence, I towered over everyone with the power that lay behind my eyes. But here, at this moment, I felt as small as a grain of rice, and I would not let them see me like that anymore.

"I'm going," I whispered, my eyelashes fluttering closed softly. The only person who could hear me was Niall, and his expression was worth a million words.

"Louis you don't have t-"

"Kat, would you mind telling Niall to shut up and get the gauze to re-bandage my wound? I need to get dressed."

Kat still sat there dumbfounded, but as soon as I sent her a slightly-gentle glare, she sprung into action and headed to the kitchen with Niall.

I walked over to my suitcase and unzipped the first pouch, picking up a black - and seemingly clean - pair of black briefs. I also picked out a loose pair of olive slacks, a black long-sleeved shirt that I had stolen from Harry four years ago, and a pair of shark-patterned socks that I had gotten after seeing them on season nine of Gogglebox (specifically on the ginger lad whose name was Symon).

Liam watched me as I began to strip. Not out of lust, but out of pity. It was the same look Niall had given me the night he found me in the bathroom. I felt Liam's eyes burn into the divots of my malnourished ribs and stomach, and I caused my cheeks to flush an embarrassed rose.

"Liam, go make y-yourself useful and start the car," I barked, though it came out more nervously than I had planned.

Liam didn't reply with a single word. He only nodded curtly, took his jean-jacket from the couch, and scurried out of the room with his keys echoing through the halls.

After getting all of my clothes on, I sauntered towards the bathroom, wanting to check my hair out in the mirror. It wasn't because I wanted to look good for Harry - no, definitely not. I solely wanted to make sure I - who am I kidding. Of course, I wanted to look good for Harry.

I began to brush my fingers through my fringe, making sure it fell across my forehead perfectly. I was directed slightly towards the left and accentuated my naturally curved eyebrows.

I then began to feel out my 5 o'clock shadow, which for the record was a bit darker than usual. Maybe a 7 o'clock shadow. But, to be fair, I hadn't shaved in two weeks.

After another minute in the mirror, and a second minute to let go of my morning wee, I was finally ready. Well, almost. Kat and Niall still had to address my stained bandages.

"Nurse Nialler Horny! Doctor Katana North! I need to be fixed up!" I called, chuckling at the nicknames I used for Niall.

"How come you said Kat's name properly and not mine?" Niall pouted, pulling out the medical supplies he needed. Kat only giggled as she repeated 'Nialler Horny' over and over again.

But instead of dwelling on the subject any further, Niall took the situation in his own hands - literally - and began to unravel my bandages.

The feeling burned my skin a bit, but it was nothing compared to what was to come.

He began to peel off the plaster that directly covered my first wound, which caused me to grunt loudly in pain.

"Fuck, do it faster," I whined, my face contorting grossly as he patted the wound with alcohol-soaked cotton balls.

"Yeah, yeah," Niall soothed, using his free hand to draw dicks against my knee.

"That's not a good distraction, Horny," I scoffed, "Kat, give me your hand, yeah?"

She complied and let me squeeze her hand as more pain shot through my left arm.

"Time for the second one!" Niall chirped, trying his best to lighten the mood.

"Fuck, just, ow!"

"Hold still, would ya'?"

"Be gentler!"

"I can't be gentle with fucking alcohol solution!"

"Shut up you two!"

"Ouch!"

"I'm done now," Niall said, ending our resentful spat.

"Alright," Kat deadpanned, smiling lightly at my creased forehead, "You can let go now."

"Right sorry," I chuckled, dropping her hand and standing up.

I patted down my sweaty forehead, making sure not to mess up my hair and watched as Kat began to leave.

"I've got a shift, but keep me posted," She called, before ultimately leaving Niall and me alone.

We both gave each other weak smiles as we walked towards the door, putting on our matching Nike's that Liam bought for us. They were completely black, except for the neon pink soles and grips at the bottom. Niall's did however have custom Irish-flag-coloured laces, which did not surprise me in the least.

Niall slung his duck-patterned sleeve around my shoulders and pulled me tightly into his body, "Let's a' go!"

&

I stepped into a few puddles of gasoline before I made it to their Civic. I always loved seeing those on the ground. They were like the liquid form of rainbows, but they were also dark and iridescent; something completely mysterious yet so familiar.

My lips upturned softly as I tore my eyes away from them, the scent of gasoline still lingering in my nose. I knew how much Niall hated the scent, but for me, it was calming. I loved the smell of gasoline.

I continued towards the car and seated myself in the backseat. Niall sat beside me, which left Liam alone in the front.

"Put on the radio or hand me the AUX!" Niall called, making grabby hands at Liam.

"Fuck, no!" I cried as I slammed the door shut, "I'm not going to listen to his shitty music!"

Liam only smiled at our squabble and handed me the AUX cord, "Sorry babe, but I agree with our tiny Tommo."

"Give me a break, I'm big," I pouted, but I plugged my phone into the AUX nonetheless, and let the soundtrack of 'The Rocky Horror Picture Show' drown out the sound of the cars passing beside us.

&

"You sure you want to go?" Niall asked, patting a gentle hand onto my shoulder. He squeezed it reassuringly before letting it fall back to his side, "The pool is still open."

"We'll go to the pool some other time. We're already here anyway," I snapped, trying my very best to regain the confidence I had before pulling up into the Beachwood Café's parking lot.

"Good luck," Liam smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes - neither did Niall's. I could tell that they were both worried, but it was going to be alright. I only had to see Harry for an hour or so... what could possibly go wrong?

"Thanks," I mumbled, unlocking my seat belt and hopping out of the car, "Didn't bring my wallet so he'll have to pay. Getting my revenge slowly but surely!"

Niall scoffed with a real smile this time, "That totally makes up for him being the world's most arrogant son of a bitch!"

Liam said nothing, I knew he still liked Harry. Liam was never one to judge a friend for what they did to others. He only lost respect if they personally offended him, and I understood that. It did vary from how rude the friend was, but that's beside the point. Though, it was a little aggravating that he was still in Harry's corner.

I gave Liam a curt nod, followed by a peck on the cheek to Niall, and headed towards the entrance of the café.

Each step I took grew heavier and heavier, almost as if my feet were scared. Maybe it was due to the fact that the more steps I took, the closer to Harry I was. That realization hit me like a bullet to the chest, but I carried on.

And as I began to climb the cobblestone steps, my heart began to pick up. I froze quickly, my breath catching in my throat.

I saw him for the first time.

My hands began to tremble as I placed one against the small window and one to the chipped-yellow doorknob. It felt cool under my hot and sweaty touch, a sensation I very much adored.

I turned the handle slowly, my eyelids burning with how tightly they clenched.

I heard the loud creak of the door as I pushed it half-way open.

Everything began to dawn on me all at once. This was real. Harry is waiting for me. He probably is staring at me right now. He might even be smiling at me.

I shook my head comically, believing that maybe, by the grace of God herself, it would shake me out of my spiralling thoughts. It didn't, but I carried on nonetheless.

I finally opened my eyes, taking in the beautiful colours that were littered across the paintings that hung in the little café.

I took a deep breath as I wiped my hands against my trousers. And finally, I gulped down all my doubt like a tall glass of trepidation - before I ultimately opened the door.

Here goes nothing.


End file.
